


Lost and Found

by BlaiddDrwg1982



Series: Second Chances [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - Human, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Bottom Derek Hale/Top Stiles Stilinski, Canon-Typical Violence, Casual Sex, Derek Hale Can Have Nice Things, Derek and Stiles are the Same Age, Emotional Overload, Extremely Dubious Consent, First Date, Hospital Release, Kissing, Masturbation Mentioned, Morning Cuddles, Multi, Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex, Past Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse, Physical Release for Emotional Pain, Porn with Feelings, Prom, Sex is not taboo, Sexy Times, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Song Lyrics, Stiles can fight, Stiles is Spiritually In Tune, They Want Sexy Times, Top Derek Hale/Bottom Stiles Stilinski, coma recovery, condom free, taco tuesday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-21
Updated: 2017-11-22
Packaged: 2018-02-14 00:28:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 26
Words: 45,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2171094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlaiddDrwg1982/pseuds/BlaiddDrwg1982
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This world is a different place. The world is at peace, having moved past the need for war in pre-history. A moral code exists, where each person is treasured and differences are respected.</p>
<p>At least, that's the idea.</p>
<p>It's taboo to speak about, but the drive to destruction still exists, and through society, it winds its way like a loose thread. Most ignore the impulse, content to exist within the world and the rules of their society.</p>
<p>But for an unlucky few, the war rages on at home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Let's Set the Scene

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Xanthe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xanthe/gifts).



> Dedicated to the person who inspired me to start writing again, and without whom, we wouldn't have the "Future Imperfect" and "Soundtrack of our Life" series. 
> 
> Sadly, "Second Chances" won't be as light hearted as the other two.
> 
> Tags and relationships will be added/updated as they appear in the story.
> 
> Trigger Warnings for the Series: Domestic Abuse. Extremely Dubious Consent. Graphic Depictions of Violence - Sexual and Physical.

Stiles loved this time of night. School work done, study group done, and relaxing on the couch with Jackson and Lydia took a turn for the enjoyable. The press of Lydia yielding against his front, and Jackson hard against his back, this was definitely a great way to end the day. 

Sure, it had been a little embarrassing when his Dad walked in on them, but the Sheriff remembered what it was like being young and unattached, and this was, after all, one of the benefits of youth. Embarrassing three ways in the living room were almost like a right of passage.

Riding the orgasmic wave that Jackson had started, he felt himself cry out, followed shortly by Lydia. Gasping slightly as Jackson withdrew from him, he withdrew from Lydia, placing a deep kiss on her lips, followed by receiving one from Jackson. Pulling the condom off, he tied it shut and held out his hand to retrieve the one from Jackson. 

Wordlessly stalking across the room to the rubbish bin, he disposed of the condoms, and came back with three glasses of water. Not bothering to dress as Jackson and Lydia seemed to be in no hurry, he smiled.

"So. Think we're ready for the Econ test tomorrow?" Stiles handed the glass of water to Jackson.

"Don't see why not. Now that Coach is finally getting some on the regular, he won't make it as evil as he usually does."

Looking at Lydia who already looked bored with this conversation. "I'm always ready for tests."

Pulling her camisole back on, she shimmied back into her underwear and jeans. Checking to make sure her make up was still "Just So," she looked at Jackson.

"Come on. You promised me dinner and a movie for a date tonight."

Rolling his eyes, Jackson pulled on his boxers and jeans. Finding a shirt, he pulled it on. It was one of Stiles' button downs. Pointing at it with a questioning look, Stiles nodded his head.

"Yeah. Just bring it to school tomorrow. I'll grab it then. Have fun you two!"

Receiving another kiss from them both, he watched as they walked out of his house, hands intertwined, Lydia leaning a bit on Jackson's shoulder. If they ever declared themselves exclusive...well...on the one hand that would suck. 

When Scott and Allison went exclusive, his Saturdays got a bit dull. When Ethan and Danny went exclusive, there went his Fridays. Lydia and Jackson partnering up would definitely make Sundays quiet. He also had to admit there was a bit of jealousy that they were finding their soul mates so early. The jealousy did disappear pretty quickly though. 

His friends were happy, and admittedly, they all made such cute couples. They didn't treat him like an outsider when they all went out, just because he hadn't found anyone to capture his more focussed interest, and the casual affections still flowed. Chaste kisses instead of deep probing ones became more of the norm these days, but at least it was something that made his heart feel full. 

Pulling on Jackson's henley and his jeans that had somehow gotten stuffed under the couch, he smiled. Even if he never found his One and Only, he knew he was loved, and even if he ended up by himself, he knew he was never alone.

***

It was always hard to tell when she was being honest in what she was saying, or if it was part of the scene, and she was just playing at disappointed.

He wanted to please her, to make her happy, to bring her to satisfaction again and again. When he pleased her, and she was sated, sometimes she would let him reach release, and be left boneless and content. If she wasn't pleased, or unsatisfied...if he disappointed her, those nights seemed to never end. She'd make it very unpleasant for him, but he knew he deserved it because he wasn't doing his job as her partner. She was strict, but she told him it was because she loved him. 

"Not like Kate," he told himself. Kate wouldn't spend the time to teach him. She'd been three years older than him, and they'd been together for almost two years before she walked away. 

Lori's lessons were tough, but that's just because she wanted to make him the best he could be, and she was the only one who understood what it would take to make him the best. She was the only one who loved him. That's what she'd taught him. No-one would ever love him the way she did.

So when her tone shifted to that sad sad tone, and she pulled his face away from her groin, he heard the sigh. He'd failed her.

"I'm disappointed Derek."

Her voice was even, and he could hear her walking across the room. Throwing the latch on the box, he let out an involuntary shiver. With the blindfold on his eyes, as it so often was, he'd learned what the different sounds in her bedroom meant. 

The soft "flumph" in the corner of the room usually meant she was pulling out the pillows and the sleeping mat, and that he'd be allowed to sleep on something soft if he was staying over. A snap in the other corner of the room meant that he'd have to wear turtle necks for a few days at school, because they were doing breath control, and she didn't want anyone to see the marks their love left on his body. They were private she'd told him. So private, she'd insisted he quit the lacrosse team, because she couldn't stand the thought of anyone seeing him even partially undressed. 

The latch that he heard rarely meant anything fun. Getting to his knees, he leaned over and grabbed one of the posts that extended up to the canopy of the bed. Gripping it tight, he heard her unwinding the whip. He normally enjoyed floggings, and even some of the whippings weren't too bad. Those, and he would NEVER admit it out loud, were usually delivered by Kate. Lori didn't have the same finesse, but she'd assured him when he stopped disappointing her, then he'd be able to enjoy her skills. 

He still had a long way to go.

Without being able to see, he was tense, and anticipating the first strike along his back, he shook just a little.

Without any warning, he felt the first strike land, right between his shoulder blade, dead center on the tattoo he'd gotten during the year between Kate and Lori. It was a triskele that reminded him of various triads of his life at the various times he needed it. Past, Present, Future. Son, Brother, Lover. Top, Bottom, Switch. The list was many and varied, and he was proud that the simple design encompassed so many things. 

Trying to retreat into the headspace that would let him endure his punishment, he found that the next strike in the small of his back jolted him back quickly. The blows were coming more and more frequently, and he could feel the welts that were raising as a result. Hissing through his teeth, he knew that crying out would only upset her more. He was supposed to be strong, she had reminded him last time he was being disciplined. Strong men don't cry out when their partners discipline them. What would his father think if he were still alive to see his son crying like a child, when he so clearly deserved this.

After a length of time, where he'd gone numb within his body, he swayed unsteadily on his feet. Hearing the click of the latch behind him, he dropped to his knees. Feeling her foot on his chest, he pressed a kiss to the top of it. 

Feeling his lips move, he barely registered the words that came out of his mouth.

"I'm sorry you had to do that my Dearest, and I know that it pains you to have to teach me my place."

Feeling her softly caress his cheek, he almost yelped at the sting of her slap.

"Think nothing of it Babe. Just make sure you do better next time. You may leave."

Crawling out of her bedroom, eyes still blindfolded, he wasn't allowed to remove it until he was in the hallway. Shakily getting dressed, he could tell by the way his undershirt stuck to his back, that there was some blood this time. Feeling shame at how badly he must have performed for her to have to discipline him this much, he removed the blindfold and looked back at the door. 

If he was this bad...he was lucky there was anyone who could love him. 

Checking his watch, it was just after 5pm on Sunday. Enough time to finish his homework for School tomorrow. If he didn't get it done, Lori would know. And then he'd be back in trouble again. Feeling the burn across his back, he walked out, a bit unsteady on his feet. He couldn't afford to get in trouble like this again. 

Then Lori would leave him, and he'd be alone.


	2. Into The World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Establishing some background shots as they say.
> 
> Open to someone else summarizing this chapter though. LOL

"No-one really knows when the shift to our more modern way of living started. In the global history, there are only a small handful of skirmishes, and one large scale war during the Dark Ages. Since then, we have lived as a global society, celebrating the differences our people give across all walks of life. Crime still exists, but as a people we are moving towards eliminating that as well. The Triad exists in a great many things. Top, Bottom, Switch. Safe, Sane, Consensual. Mental, Physical, Spiritual. Good, Bad, Indifferent. Today, we're going to focus on one of the rarest parts of the Triad."

Ms. Morell wrote out one of the Triads that formed the basis of their society. Mental, Physical, Spiritual.

"In the history of our known sexuality, experts have agreed, through many many ages, that there are a great number of different types of relationships. Mental, Physical, and Spiritual. A successful relationship is a blending of all three, but given human nature, that isn't always true. Few land right in the middle of the triangle. Some people are more cerebral. Some are more physical. But as time goes by, those who feel the more spiritual side of things seem to be getting more and more rare. Through various epochs, each has waxed and waned in the natural order, and no-one really knows why."

Looking out over her class, she sets the dry-erase marker on the desk in front of her.

"What we do know, is this seemingly missing third of our society offers more to their relationships than those of us who are more mental, or more physical. Having met one such individual in the past I can honestly say, they exist as a marriage of the mind and the body. Before you go, I want each of you to write a two thousand word paper on the historical importance of the Spiritual Person as they relate to the formation of our current social moors. The paper will be due at the end of semester, and it will be worth 25% of your final grade."

The bell rang, almost as if she had planned her lesson to end exactly then. Watching the class pack up she noticed that the majority of them were paired up. That was to be expected in a class of 18 year olds. Seeing a few outsiders wasn't unexpected either. They were coming up on "Lover's Day," which was also traditionally the hottest day at the end of the summer, before the first day of fall. More and more red was showing up in their wardrobes. Shaking her head softly at her self, she almost didn't notice that there were still two students left before. Stiles Stilinski, and Derek Hale. 

Stiles, because he had slept through her class, yet again. She wasn't worried. She'd put money on the fact he'd have his paper in before anyone else, and receive the highest mark. He seemed to be a savant in most of his classes, and his skill in her class, History of Psycho-Sexuality, was beyond anything she'd ever heard of before. She had a lingering thought it was because his mother had literally written the text book she was teaching out of before she had passed away. Despite having passed on 6 years previous, no-one entering the field came close to how instinctive the subject matter seemed to be for her. No-one, except her own son of course.

Derek...that one worried her. When he'd been dumped by Kate, there were a lot of rumours about him floating around that had finally been squashed. When Talia, his mother, had been found dead at the Hale's house, foul play had been suspected, Kate was the prime suspect, but ultimately released when her alibi came forward. She'd been otherwise occupied on the other side of the country with one of her brother's hunting buddies. If the relationship between Derek and Kate hadn't been dead before she was a suspect, that little trip to the police station was the last nail in the coffin.

The student rumour mill, being what it was, had Derek with some new girl, a year or two older than him, and extremely reclusive. Whether she actually existed or not, wasn't her concern. None of it really was. But, it was a puzzle that her mind chewed through from time to time.

"Gentlemen. Did you have any questions for me?"

Stiles bolted up, string from his hoody shoved halfway into his mouth.

"No. Good. Got it. Paper on Spiritual Sex Faces. Got it."

"No Ms. Morell. Just finishing off the last of the notes. Have to make sure the notes are perfect. Don't want to do poorly."

Stiles grabbed his books and his bag, stumbling out of the class, and accidentally bumping into Derek as he passed by. Derek winced, and Stiles just kept going, seemingly oblivious to what just happened. Looking down at the writing, it wasn't too too bad. Maybe Lori wouldn't even notice.

Heading out to the hall, they both nodded at each other in the polite way they did, barely acknowledging each other, despite the fact they'd been in the same group therapy sessions for a few months. Despite being much younger when he lost his Mother, Stiles still went a couple times a week to groups for kids who lost their parents. Derek had been required to go after losing Talia, as he'd been required after losing Claudia.

Walking down the hall, Stiles winced slightly at the tightness in his back. Looking back over his shoulder at Derek Hale's retreating back, he merely shrugged. The guy had some tension and it transferred over it would seem.

Feeling arms loop in with his, the tension was immediately replaced with a sated type of rubbery relaxation. 

"You finally declared didn't you."

There was a definite excitement in Stiles' voice. Looking between Jackson and Lydia, he could tell by the slightly wavering smile he was right on the money.

"How do you always know?"

"Instinct I guess."

He shrugged. There was more to it than that, but he'd been taught by his Mom to keep that side of him hidden. Lamenting for a half second the loss of yet another two lovers, this brought his current total of bed partners down to exactly zero.

Grim.

But, that being said, he was legitimately happy for the two of them. Just like all the others he's shared his bed and body with, these two were a perfect fit. They matched each other's needs like they were made for each other. And, like everyone else, they would likely keep him around, and not push him to the outside like so many others did to their friends. He seemed, at least in his more maudlin thought of the day, destined to be alone, but never be lonely. Feeling Jackson's arms wrap around his waist, hand linked in the small of his back, he felt Lydia's arms snake up and wrap around his chest. 

Relaxing into their touch, he sighed a contented sigh. This was familiar. Their other friends held him like this quite often. Intimate in the sense they were showing him he was still important to them. Chaste in the sense that this was as close as they would get, just shy of being at the beach and having a massive cuddle pile, which was just part of a regular day out for anyone, not just the youths. Feeling Jackson press a kiss to his lips, and Lydia press one to his back, he heard her gasp. 

"Stiles. Your back is bleeding."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some lightness before the dark.


	3. Beauty and the Beast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The one where we learn more about Stiles' Mom, see another difference in interpersonal relationships, and realize that although this is an all human AU, there are some metaphysical elements about this universe as well.

Stiles sat waiting in the emergency room of the hospital, feet bouncing, looking more than a little bored. His Dad had been called down from work as this incident happened at school, and no-one wanted to look too closely. The entire back of his shirt was getting crusty with dried blood, and it was clinging uncomfortably to the skin. He didn't feel any pain, which was the weird part. He'd been whipped once or twice when he was younger playing out a scene with Scott and Jackson, and one of Scott's swipes was a bit over zealous. The picture Lydia took to show him where the blood was coming through looked about the size of the mark that Scott had left him with. It was a point of hilarity now, but he remembered the ashen look that Scott had at so simply an accident.

Your friends are to be treasured, and your lovers even more so. That was the way their parents raised them. 

Watching Melissa pacing the room, chewing on her thumbnail, she kept casting furtive glances at Stiles and wincing. He'd worn a white shirt today, so the dried blood was standing out in stark relief against the crisp white of his henley.

"So, anything you want to tell me?"

"You mean did I get in over my head with someone who didn't respect my safe word?"

She simply nodded her head.

"No. Last night I spent a glorious night sandwiched between Jackson and Lydia, made chicken fajitas, did my english paper, and fell asleep watching a Sham-Wow commercial. And I may or may not have ordered a few Sham-Wows so don't be surprised if you get an early and weird birthday present."

Rolling her eyes she chuckled and shook her head. Hands on her waist, she really took a close look at Stiles' eyes. That boy could not lie to her to save his life. He couldn't lie to Claudia either. He was generally a terrible liar if she was going to be completely honest about this. Seeing no hints of deception on his face, she nodded her acceptance of his answer and went back to pacing. 

Standing back at the Sheriff entered the room she gave him a warm smile, and gave his hand a squeeze. Seeing him relax, she nodded.

"Okay. Now that the Sheriff is here, Stiles, would you please remove your shirt and sit still so we can photograph the markings on your back. We will also be doing some blood work. While I know you believe what you said, we have to eliminate the possibility of someone slipping you something in your drink and doing...that...to you."

It was uncomfortable talking about abuse. It simply wasn't something that was done in modern ages. The incidents of it were few and far between, and was one of the more heinous crimes that could be committed, short of ending someone's life. 

Stiles managed to unstick the shirt from his back, wincing a little at the blood as it peeled from his back. His Dad and Melissa moved behind him to take a look, and he could feel their presence thrumming through his head. Closing his eyes he willed that feeling away, so he couldn't tell what they were looking at. In a small voice, he asked.

"How bad does it look. Is it going to scar?"

Scott's little accident had scarred, but it was a tiny one that was easy to miss.

"I don't believe it..."

He felt Melissa's cool fingers traced his back. He was confused at the lack of pain that should accompany her touch. What was also shocking was she wasn't wearing her gloves. For the amount of blood on the back of his shirt, there'd had to be some deep cuts.

"...there's nothing here. No cuts. No bruises. Well. A hickey from Jackson I'd imagine, but other than that...just some flakes of dry blood."

Craning his neck as if he could see his back, he took the digital camera from his Dad after the Sheriff had snapped a few pictures. Unblemished. Completely unblemished. No marks. No cuts. No bruises, except the hickey on his shoulder blade from Jackson last night.

"I don't understand. Why is there so much blood on my shirt?"

Scooping it up, he folded it up and tossed it on the bed he was sitting on. Holding his arm out, he barely registered the sharp prick of the needle as Melissa drew his blood. Watching the vials fill, there was an uncomfortable silence in the room. 

"You are your mother's son," Melissa whispered softly. 

She and Claudia had been quite close while his mother was still alive. John and Claudia had helped Scott and Melissa while Rafe was gone seeking treatment for his alcoholism, and emotionally supported her through her divorce. When Claudia started getting sick, she'd pulled John and Melissa close, and given them her blessing. When Rafe had come, the ugliness of the divorce long since washed away with understanding and coming together for the best interests of Scott, Claudia had even accepted him back in their circle. So now, it was a bizarre three-way to be sure, but it was one that worked.

Looking over at Melissa, he raised an eyebrow.

"What do you mean by that?"

Melissa looked at John. John looked at Melissa. Stiles stared blankly between the two and sighed heavily.

"Enough with the heavy meaningful looks between you. Spit it out."

John deflated a little and leaned against the counter. 

"Your Mom had a bit of a gift. Rare, but beautiful. I've thought that you probably inherited it from her, you showed signs from when you were an infant, but I wasn't sure. With your brains, I thought you were more in the Intellectual spectrum. Your behavioral tests leaned that way, but it was the little things. Your Mom was a genius. Effortless. She was instinctual about a lot of things. Psych development. People's feelings. People's relationships. People's bodies. She was in touch with everything and it was effortless."

Sighing heavily, Melissa continued.

"Once, and only once, she'd come in to the hospital, complaining of pain in her chest, like someone had taken a sledge hammer to her ribs. We did every test we could think of, but nothing was wrong with her. It turned out that one of her coworkers at the clinic had been beaten by his husband the night before and had two broken ribs. She'd bumped into him and the shock of the trauma had been...picked up by her.

"That doesn't explain how blood manifested on you, that's a bit more extreme. But I've got a feeling it isn't unrelated."

Stiles took in what they were saying. He knew some of this about his Mom, but not...that much. Not that detailed. Face going a bit white, his mouth going dry.

"So wait...what you're telling me is that there may be someone in my school who's being hurt?"

John and Melissa exchanged a look.

"That...wasn't quite where we were going with that."

"No, but the fact remains that someone in my school could be getting hurt right now and we don't even know?"

The look of shock and appall on Stiles face trumped his concern with the blood he was not actually bleeding. Pulling the button down that Jackson returned to him at school today, he pulled it on and did it up.

"And what did it take for Mom to get hurt the way she did."

"She bumped into the guy."

"Great. So I just have to think about who I ran into today. Unfortunately I'm the klutziest person in Beacon Hills, so that should narrow it down to the entire student body and most of the rest of the town. Fuck. Great."

Throwing his bag over his shoulder, he moved towards the door, dark cloud forming over his head.

"I'll see you two at home. Before I forget, Rafe texted Scott. He'll be home later tonight."

Pulling his bag higher up his shoulder he moved off down the hallway.

***

"Derek. Why are your notes so sloppy?"

Looking down at the sheets she was reading through, the only part that was a little off was when Stiles had bumped into him. His look turned to one of fear and self loathing as he tried to suppress his unconscious fear.

"He bumped into me as I was finishing my notes."

"Who."

"Stiles."

"The boy you used to be friends with when you were in therapy."

"Yes."

"You let him touch you and distract you?"

Head whipping up, he shook it furiously.

"No no. He just bumped into me on his way out of the class. He runs into everything. I didn't let him..."

"Don't lie to me Derek."

"I'm not..."

She cut him off again.

"Don't. Lie. To me. Derek."

Slumping down on his knees, he dropped his head to look at the floor, face crumbling in frustration with himself for being so stupid as to let another person touch him. Biting back the sob that was filling his throat, he heard the snapping of a latex glove behind him.

"Still. I can't been surprised. Maybe I haven't been giving you what you want. Sometimes men have needs that a woman forgets about."

There was a purr in her voice. He started to tremble. He hoped she interpreted it as desire, even though it was something a bit more primal. Feeling her kick between his shoulder blades, he found his face on the floor, bare ass in the air for all to see. Not that anyone would see. No one was allowed to look at him like this. Feeling her fingers circling his hole, he tensed up. The gloved hand was dry.   
"I'm sorry that I've been neglecting this part of you Derek."

Eyes going wide when he didn't hear the sound of lube opening. Biting his lip to keep from cry out, he felt as the dry fingers plunged into him without warning, and without mercy. 

Tasting the blood on his lips, he saw white in the periphery of his vision. Feeling her breath on his neck, his eyes screwed shut to block out the horrible feeling of her fingers working him over.

"I'm only doing this because I love you, and I don't want you looking for someone to give you what I haven't been."

Cringing as he felt her fingers plunge in and out of him, he merely shook his head.

"You're my only one Lori. You're the only one who loves me."

Hearing her satisfied snort.

"Don't forget it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I REALLY hate Lori.
> 
> Sounds like I'm talking about the Walking Dead. But seriously. I REALLY hate Lori.
> 
> Also, I apologize for the time between postings. I've recently been diagnosed with depression (nothing new, just FINALLY got the formal diagnosis) and I'm starting my meds, but this last week has been absolutely brutal. I appreciate your patience and understanding with things, and I SO very appreciate your support.


	4. No Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes you just want to be alone with your thoughts, work on your body and your focus. Sometimes, fate just seems to keep crashing you in to each other.
> 
> And the enemies of fate move to make sure you regret it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Assault Triggers
> 
> A little shorter than anticipated, but I'm okay with that.

Stiles always preferred using the school gym after the regular school hours as it was often much quieter. It allowed him to focus on his body rather than his mind for once, and it allowed him to have his guard down. With what he'd been told about Claudia's 'gift' for want of a better term, he had a lot to process through. It seems he'd inherited that trait from her as well as his eye colour. Pressing up and breathing through the bench press, he pushed the bar to lock in position. 

Looking up at the ceiling, he felt the annoyance creeping through him that he knew he had to forgive his family for. How were they to know. If it weren't for the blood that had manifested without the cuts, they'd never have told him, and he'd never have a reason to ask. Disengaging the bar, he pushed through a few more reps before sitting up. Toweling off his face, he looked over the sheets he'd set up beside the bench. 

Coach's latest work out request for him for lacrosse. He'd been working on his speed and agility, but Coach apparently thought he needed to pack on a bit more muscle. It wasn't his fault he was reedy...again, something he got from his Mother. He put on muscle like his dad, but it was stretched out over his frame. Still. A bit more muscle was appealing to him. Definitely wouldn't hurt his chances in finding someone to hook up with either. Getting up and sliding another 10 pounds on each side of the bar, he shook his arms loose again. 

Laying back down, feet firmly planted on the floor, he heard the doorknob rattle as someone turned it to gain access. Pulling back his relaxed mental state, he made sure to not be reaching beyond himself. While it was annoying that someone was encroaching on what was normally his alone time in the gym, he couldn't be too annoyed. It was a public space, and sharing is caring right?

Focussing on the bar above him, he pressed up on it, and slowly lowered it to his chest, breathing in, and doing his utmost to keep from killing himself. Hearing the other person sigh loudly, he let his concentration slip for a half second, causing his right elbow to give out under the bar, sending it crashing into his chest. Wheezing out for help, he couldn't get his hands under it enough to leverage it off his chest.

"Are you insane?"

He didn't register the face above his as the hands grabbed the bar, pulling it off him, allowing him to draw a painful breath.

"Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

Wheezing he sat up, trying to take a full breath, grateful he didn't feel any gurgling in his chest. He'd still have to go to the hospital, and given that he couldn't take a full breath, he'd likely have to take an ambulance. Raphael and Melissa were not going to be happy with him. His Dad was just going to straight up kill him. Massaging his chest, he winced. He could already feel the bruise developing. Turning around at the clunk of the metal bar locking back into position, he reached out to grab the hand of the person who saved him.

Making contact with the other person's skin, he felt his chest explode in agony, his back felt like it lit on fire, and his ass clenched reflexively as if he had just been stabbed. Collapsing to the floor, and curling up on the ground, he drew his arms across his midsection. Feeling the sickly feeling worming its way through his guts, his vision went blurry, and he didn't dare breathe deeply for fear of everything lighting on fire again.

His rescuer held his hand to his chest as though he'd been burned, arm crossing across his chest as though he'd been struck by the bar. Hunched over, a thin line of bile and spit dripped from his lips onto the exercise bench. Feeling some of his pain ease in his back and ass though, he looked down at Stiles curiously, with tears filling his eyes. Backing up towards the door, fingers flying across the number pad on his phone, he hesitated before pressing send. 

Looking up as the person who'd save him was scrambling to put as much distance between them as possible, he tried to sit up, but felt lances of fire fly through him. His shirt was stuck to him, and not just from sweat. He could feel blood trickling out of his ass as well. Face going pale, he squinted to make out the face of the person who had saved him, and was trying to run from him. He could make out the green eyes, but the edge of his field of vision was wavering. 

"I'm sorry," was all he gruffly heard before the sweet unconsciousness claimed him, delivering him, at least for the moment, from the searing pain that overwhelmed his senses.

***

"What happened Stiles?"

"I don't know."

"Stiles. Your back is cut up. Shallow enough they won't scar, but there are cuts there. You came into the hospital bleeding from rectal trauma that should heal. Stiles...you can tell us. We aren't mad, just concerned."

Stiles stared at the ceiling in the hospital room, Melissa and Raphael to the one side. His Dad on the other. Scott stood at the foot of his bed, worrying the edge of his thumbnail between his teeth. His Dad and Raph were here also in an official capacity. FBI and local Sheriff's office. Assault was a rare thing these days, so anything that looked funky required the FBI to be involved. 

He'd been told that someone placed an anonymous call from one of the school phones to 911, and he'd been brought in. It was lucky they had, as the position he'd passed out in could have been problematic with the spit pooling in the back of his throat, but he'd been unable to swallow, his body was so far in shock. By the time he'd woken up in the hospital, he'd been unconscious for the better part of 16 hours, brain and body overloaded from the trauma of what looked like a sexual assault.

"The last people I had sex with were Jackson and Lydia. There was no kink play at all, just slow, lazy, relaxing sex. I've jerked off a couple times, but nothing's gone up my ass since Tuesday. Not a finger. Not a dildo, and definitely nothing forced."

Sighing, he pinched his nose and gestured at the ceiling.

"I was in the gym, working out, I'd added more weight to my bench press, I got distracted and dropped the bar. Someone, and I don't know who, came in, pulled the bar off my chest. I went to grab his hand to thank him, when I suddenly felt like I wanted to die."

His voice dropped a little in volume.

"It wasn't the physical pain that hurt. Just...there was a lot of loss there. A lot of..."

He sighed. John stopped making notes for a second and set his pad of paper and pen down.

"...a lot of things you can't understand because it wasn't there 30 seconds before."

Stiles nodded his head, blinking back the tears at the hollowness he felt when thinking about it. Surrounded as he was by family, and his friends waiting in the hallway to come and see him, he knew the emptiness wasn't his to feel. He just couldn't block it out.

"Your Mom had attacks like that when she let her guard down by accident."

Swallowing heavily, his throat was dry. Pressing the palms of his hands to his eyes, he let out a shuddering breath. 

"He was so lost. He felt so...alone."

The adults shared a concerned look across the bed.

"No one should ever have to feel that alone."

Closing his eyes, he heard Melissa click the button on the pain killer drip. Feeling the rush of the drugs going straight to his head, he sunk heavier into the bed, murmuring about green eyes, and gentle voices. f

***

"Explain to me again Derek, exactly what happened."

Derek looked up from the floor to Lori, before dropping his eyes again to her feet.

"I went to the gym to work out like I always do. This time there was someone in the gym working out. He dropped a bar of weights on his chest and..."

"He."

"Yes. Stiles. He was working out."

"Stiles," her voice shifted to a colder tone. "Stiles again. What is it with you and this boy Derek? That's all you ever talk about is Stiles."

Wincing at the tone of her voice, he stopped talking, worried he was going to get himself in more trouble.

"Maybe I should meet this 'Stiles' person since you seem so obsessed with him. Where does he live."

"I...I don't know. He's at the hospital. I called the ambulance for him after I left."

He could feel the look she was giving him. Sinking down towards the floor, he heard her walk behind him. Grabbing the riding crop off the bed, he winced as she brought it crashing harshly between his shoulder blades. Guaranteed to leave a mark, but nothing that would be visible.

"I...I didn't use my cell phone. I used the school phone and wiped down the receiver I swear."

He hated it. Hated how he cried out and pleaded with her to understand. Feeling the smack over one of the healing cuts (that was much further along than it had been this morning) he felt the blood trickle down his spine.

"Do you think I'm so stupid? That I don't know exactly what you use your phone for? Who do you think pays for it."

Wincing at the handle cracked against his shoulder blade, he sunk to the floor, willing it to swallow him up.

"I'm sorry Lori. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel stupid. I'm sorry..."

He was crying against the carpet, sprawled out, arms at his side as his tears wet the rug beneath his cheek. Crying out at the next blow struck the side of his face, he curled up into a ball, arms flying over his head out of instinct.

"Spread out."

Shaking numbly, he mumbled, "I can't. I'm sorry. I can't."

Feeling his back arch as the blow connected with his tail bone, he felt his vision wavering. Looking up, the last thing he saw was the bottom of her foot coming at his face.


	5. Hold On, Hold On To Yourself...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The evening falls on Beacon Hills, and a damaged figure is discarded like so much refuse at the bus terminal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A small little update that gives a little more insight in how some of the family dynamics are in this universe, and highlighting the support our plucky hero has.

Staring at the ceiling had become his most recent past time, but from the display on the digital clock on the wall, it was still the evening he had been admitted to the hospital. Still feeling every ache and pain in his body, he’d declined another drip of painkillers. He hadn’t said no to the two little white pills they’d dropped off, but he didn’t want to get hooked on the morphine. The cracked ribs, the cuts on his back, the literal bleeding pain in the ass were all dull throbs right now as long as he didn’t move too much. 

Adjusting the bed so he was sitting up, he grabbed a book off the nightstand that hadn’t been there when he fell asleep. Judging by the Latin title, it was a get well gift from Lydia. There was a bag of snack food, courtesy of Jackson, and a few other miscellaneous things from the rest of their friends. Grabbing out a small pack of cookies, he flipped through the book, not really focussing much on the words, but instead just looking at the artistry in the lettering. It was a truly beautiful work of art in that alone. When he’d had the flu, Lydia had brought him a copy of “The Maze Runner” that had been translated to Latin. He wasn’t sure where she got if for him since it looked hand written and wasn’t commercially available, but he’d read the entire thing, getting a flow for the language. Looking up, he heard a commotion in the hallway and sat up with a wince when he saw Melissa running past with a grave look on her face. 

Throwing the blankets off the bed, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed, ignoring his body groaning in protest as the fact he was trying to move. Slipping his feet into the slippers, he walked gingerly towards the door, checking to ensure the coast was clear.

Shuffling as fast as he dared, he heard the commotion coming from the direction of the emergency room. Edging around the corner, being the son of a sheriff, and to all intents and purposes, the step son of an FBI officer and an ER nurse, nothing in his limited exposure to the ugliness of the world could have prepared him for what he saw. 

It was a man…maybe not even that old, covered from head to toe in cuts and bruises. There were obviously broken bones, and one eye was swollen shut, the bones around the socket quite likely broken as well. Gripping the wall with one hand, he felt himself slip to the ground. Wincing as the other person’s head lolled to be looking blankly in his direction, he couldn’t make out the face through the cuts and swelling, but he recognized the one eye. A clear, glass green eye he had seen only a few hours ago.

“…erek Hale. ID’s in his pocket. Dropped off at the bus station from an unmarked, unplated car. From what the bus attendant said, the windows were tinted and he couldn’t make out who had done the dumping. Attendant called 911, he was unconscious at the scene. He appears to have suffered injuries to most of his visible body, but you’ll have to take a full survey.”

Gasping at the name, he moved forward on his hands and knees. Derek Hale. The only other person around his age who had attended the grief management group therapy with him. Who had developed the beginnings of a friendship with him based on a mutual understanding of what it was to lose the most important person in their lives. Who had disappeared from the lacrosse team at the beginning of the year and stopped going to Group. Who had stopped talking to him. Who had saved his life.

Who had been so abused, and Stiles never even saw it coming.

Stiles winced as he felt a pair of strong arms scoop him up to take him back to his room. Feeling himself curl up into a ball, he closed his eyes and let the calm and steady heartbeat of Mr. McCall soothe his own frantically beating heart. Feeling himself getting set back in the bed, as the older man started to walk away, his hand reached out and captured Raph’s arm in his hand. Looking up there was the echo of the lost little boy he had once been cross his face. The younger child he’d been who had lost his mother before she could teach him everything he’d need to know to keep from losing himself to the sensations around him. 

Raph stepped back and took a seat on the edge of Stiles’ bed, running his hand through Stiles’ hair, tracing a circular pattern on his forehead that resulted in the predictable drooping of his eyelids. Trying frantically to sit up, he felt the gentle pressure of Raph’s hands holding him down, vaguely aware of the words dripping from his lips meant to calm and soothe.

“Melissa will take care of him, and we’ll make sure he’s protected. No-one’s going to go near him. You have my word Kiddo.”

Stiles screwed his eyes shut. He’d always been so intuitive on how people were feeling. He hadn’t picked it up from Derek even once that things were not all sunshine and roses, despite how happy he appeared to be all the time. Taking a long slow breath.

“Try and get him in here.”

Raph raised an eyebrow at the sudden willingness to have someone share a room with him. As close as he and Scott were, when Melissa and Raph moved in with him and his Dad, Stiles insisted on having his own room. His defences dropped when he was asleep he’d found, which could sometimes be problematic.

“We’re sort of friends. Go back a few years to Group, after he lost his Mom and I was just checking in.”

Raph nodded his head in understanding. 

“I’ll see what I can do, but no promises. Just try and get some rest, and if you promise me you won’t try and get out of this bed again, I won’t tell your Dad or Melissa about you going for a walk down to Emerge. Got it?”

Sighing a discontented sigh, he just nodded his head. 

“Fine. I’ll stay put and you won’t get me killed. Sounds like a fair trade.”

Settling into the pillows, he smiled slightly as Mr. McCall pressed a fatherly kiss to his forehead. It hadn’t always been like that between them, but Stiles had made the effort for the sake of Scott and his Dad. The only people his Dad loved even close to how he loved his Mom, was Melissa and Raphael. It took years, but he’d finally accepted Raphael into his life as well. His support was just that much more now, he realized, which made this ordeal almost bearable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And for those of you who recognize the line of a song I used for this chapter title, I'll give you a guess as to what the next chapter will be called...


	6. ...For This is Gonna Hurt Like Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek is admitted to Stiles' room to recover. Indications show that this has been going on for a while, and something triggers Stiles' protective instinct. 
> 
> Leather and Honey.

Sometime during the evening Stiles had drifted off to sleep again, vaguely aware as his hospital room door was opened as the nurse was doing her rounds, and again when the other bed was rolled in. Unable to fight against the combination of fatigue and drugs coursing through his system, he let the vague feeling of nausea and exhaustion roll over him like waves from the ocean. Periodically he heard a whimper from across the room, but it was still fully buried under the drugs. Derek wouldn’t be conversational until at least the morning, maybe not even until the afternoon.

Cracking his eyes open, he saw as the sunlight started to creep into the room. An unholy hour of the day if there ever was one. He’d never be mistaken for a morning person. Scrambling up in the bed, his eyes adjusted to the low light and he was able to make out the person in the other bed, though only barely. There were bandages covering almost every inch of him. Many of which were already starting to look bloody and needing to be changed.   
 Slipping from the bed, he slid into the wheel chair that had been left by his bed and quietly made his way over to the other bed, taking a look at the chart that hung from the end of the bed. He’d picked up some of the short hand from reading Melissa’s notes, and the rest he was able to infer. Derek had been beaten, and from the sounds of things, left for dead at the bus depot. He had a cracked skull, cracked cheek, broken nose, missing a few teeth, broken ribs, two dislocated shoulders, multiple cuts and bruises, and evidence of abuse spanning back over weeks. The pattern of cuts on his back where identical to the ones Stiles was sporting, and also had suffered a more severe case of rectal trauma than Stiles had. There was also a lot of internal bruising, luckily nothing that required surgery.

Setting the chart down, there was no doubt in his mind that he’d somehow accidentally picked up Derek’s injuries. Looking at the monitor for Derek’s vitals, his heart rate was a bit higher than it should be. Reaching out, he gently took Derek’s hand in his and gave them a kind, reassuring squeeze. Opening himself up just a little he felt Derek’s heart rate start to steady and slow itself, as was soon evidenced by the monitor. 

Looking up from the lower vantage point of the wheelchair, he felt tears spring to his eyes for what the other man had gone through. They were acquaintances, if that, who had met in support group for people who had lost loved ones. As the only two the same age, they’d developed to the point of friendly conversation and mutual respect. They’d drifted apart, but it had been mutual. They had their own circle of friends they hung out with, but were still friendly in the halls.

Besides. Stiles didn’t have a mean bone in his body. Even if they’d fought, he would never with THIS on the other man. 

Brushing the tears from his eyes, he wanted to open himself up further, to take away some of the pain, but he was worried that it would hit him like the force of a dam breaking. He could tell there was so much on the other side of the barrier in his mind, that it would be entirely possible to get swept away. 

Resting his chin on the edge of the bed, he smelled something he’d forgotten. The smell of old leather and sunshine. He always recognized that as Derek’s scent, because no-one else could pull off the cool factor of the leather, and the sweet factor of the sunshine quite like young Mr. Hale. But this time the smell…was wrong. The antiseptics and medications to be sure. But it was tainted somehow. Lost in darkness. Stale. This brought a second wave of tears to his face. Sniffing them back, he looked up as the door opened.

“Derek?”

Releasing Derek’s hand, he tried wheeling back to his bed, but the figure intercepted him and knocked him back. By the look of shock on the other man’s face, he could tell it was completely accidental.

“Sorry young man. What…who…”

The other man tried to regain his composure. Extending his hand.

“Peter Hale. Derek’s uncle. You’re a friend of Derek’s?”

Stiles reached out and shook the other man’s hand. Sending out a dart of awareness to his hand, his probe came back satisfied. Peter’s concern for his nephew overrode almost everything. A small twinge of concern directed in Stiles direction, but for the most part he was pretty well harmless. Not too hard on the eyes either.

“Stiles. We’re in some classes together and apparently rooming it here.”

He wasn’t about to let on that he’d managed to wrangle the sleepover, but it was still the truth.

Peter picked up the chart and read through it, growling a bit, not even trying to hide what he was feeling. Stiles could certainly sympathize. He’d be right there with Peter getting revenge and he barely even knew Derek.

“I’m going to go grab a cup of coffee and I’ll be right back.”

Peter sounded numb after reading the report. Guilt crept into his voice. Nodding, he moved back over to Derek and took his hand giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Not…oh…ight.”

Stiles relaxed his grip and looked up at Derek whose eyes were slowly starting to open. 

“…ere am I.”

“Hospital. What do you remember?”

Stiles kept his voice low and soft, not wanting to startle him.

“Nothing. I ‘as in ‘ed and then I was on the ground. Then I smelled honey and woke up here.”

Stiles could feel the lie, and smell it. Derek knew exactly what happened and he wasn’t going to spill. The whole thing was a lie…except the honey part.”

“If the ambulance hadn’t been called when it was, you’d never have made it. Are you sure you don’t…”

A harsh hiss cut him off followed by a rasping cough. Letting go, Stiles turned and grabbed the water with the straw and propped Derek up so he could sip it more comfortably. Staying there, he felt a little light headed as Derek’s coughing fit died down. Feeling what Derek was feeling right down to his toes, he closed his eyes, attempting to steel himself to allow the sensations to flow through him and lessen what Derek was feeling. 

Feeling himself slip from the bed, he missed the wheel chair and landed with a hard crack to his head. Letting out a hissed wheeze, the last thing he saw was Derek leaning over the bed as though to catch him, and Peter’s cup of coffee hitting the ground as the older man dove to catch him.


	7. The Other Side of the Room

Derek looked across at the pale figure in the bed, now sporting a bandage around the head, and significantly less hair. The blow Stiles had taken to the head had resulted in a decent sized cut that required a few stitches and from what the nurse said, the just shaved the rest of his head because he’d probably be foolish enough to try and do it himself before leaving the hospital. At the moment there was no ETA on when either of them would be leaving.

Staring at the ceiling, he shifted in his bed, trying to get more comfortable, and trying to block the memories out of his head on exactly how he got here. He’d never seen someone so twisted and angry as he’d seen Lori. He felt a twinge in his gut about that, but for the first time, it wasn’t guilt. Hearing Peter in the chair beside him, he looked out his good eye and saw that his Uncle was sound asleep, worry lines creasing his forehead, hand resting gently on his forearm. 

Sliding out of bed, and grabbing his IV pole, Derek slowly made his way to the washroom. Flicking on the light, he looked in the mirror, cringing at the sight before him. The bruises hadn’t even started to fully surface yet. The slowly darkening marks would soon be dark purple, probably with tinges of red, green and yellow. The swelling around his broken cheek looked like he’d had a baseball implanted in his face. He could see through the swelling that he’d ruptured blood vessels in both eyes, and probing around his mouth with his tongue, he could tell he was missing a few molars. Letting out a quiet sigh, he did his business, washed up and stepped out of the bathroom. 

Looking at Stiles, he vaguely remembered through the drug fuelled haze, the smaller man trying to prop him up so he could drink some water and sooth his irritated throat, which was what lead him to falling and cracking his head against the linoleum floor. Feeling a wash of shame creep through him for accidentally hurting the other man, he shuffled over to the other bed. Taking a look at Stiles chart, he appeared to be in here for much of the same reason that Derek himself was. In some instances…identical reasons. Wincing as his eyebrow involuntarily shot up in curiosity, he started to shuffle back to his own bed before he heard a plaintive whimper from Stiles.

Turning around as quickly as he dared, he made his way to the head of Stiles’ bed, capturing the twitching hand in his own two battered palms. They too had been cut up it would appear. Directing himself carefully into a chair, he winced at the pressure he was feeling. If he had to guess he would probably say at least 75% of his body was covered in bruises. Staring up at Stiles, he didn’t know why he was even here, but something about the distress in the whimper that Stiles had let out triggered a deep seated need to protect. Trying to relax so the bruising didn’t hurt as much, he took a deep breath, smelling the hospital’s laundry detergent mixed with fresh cut grass and…honey.

Drifting in and out, holding Stiles hand, he felt the tension in his body start to release, and Stiles starting to relax as well. As the tension released though, he felt the pain more acutely, and while he was reluctant to do it, he released Stiles’ hand and inched his way back to his own bed.

Climbing in and arranging the covers, Derek looked back over at Peter who was watching him with that ever observant look that used to drive him crazy when he was a kid.

“That was almost adorable Nephew.”

Rolling his eyes as best he could given the circumstances.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

As long as he spoke through clenched teeth, it would appear his speech was fine. Something about Peter brought that out in him. His uncle was always well meaning in his observations and interferences, which irritated him because he didn’t really have a reason to BE irritated in the first place. 

“The way you’re both trying to take care of each other. It’s cute. I came in here and he was holding your hand. You heard him whimpering so you went to hold his. It’s…cute.”

Letting out an exhausted sigh, he didn’t have it in him to fight with Peter right now.

“Therapy.”

“Hmm?”

“After Mom died, and was put in that therapy group, that’s where I met him. He lost his Mom a few years before I did. We were the only two our age in that group, so we got to talking.”

“And…”

“And what? That’s it. We hung out a bit, worked on school work together, practised lacrosse a bit, but after I stopped going and started seeing Lori we just kind of drifted.”

Peter’s face darkened a bit at the mention of Lori’s name. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but he didn’t trust that woman as far as she could throw him. 

“So now you’re both here, and he seems to be sporting some of the same injuries you are.”

Derek shifted a little uncomfortably at that thought. They’d all grown up with the rumours of what some members of their society were capable of doing. Taking away the pain of others. Soothing the spiritual ills. The third leg of society that didn’t seem to be around much anymore. Masters of their intellect, their body and their spirit. He remembered hearing stories of them from his Mom when he was a child, but that’s all they were. 

Now, it would appear that not only were they real, but some of them were capable of manifesting injuries sustained by other people if they weren’t careful. And he was room with one such individual.

“Coincidence?”

Peter gave him THAT look which was reminiscent of his Mother. Which made sense given they were siblings after all. 

“Nephew.”

“Uncle.”

Peter growled at him with a smile. Derek returned a half grin, giving his Uncle’s hand a squeeze as the older Hale got to his feet and stretched, back popping.

“I’m going to grab a cup of coffee and see if I can snag you something soft. Lay back and relax.”

Gentling Derek’s hair into somewhat of an ordered mess, Peter pressed a kiss to his forehead, tears threatening to make an appearance.

“And don’t ever scare me like this again.”

Looking up in shock at the sudden statement of concern, Derek opened his mouth with some kind of retort, but seeing the look on his uncle’s face, he merely nodded his head and gave the person who’d been up until the summer, his guardian, a hug.

“I promise.”


	8. Conversations in the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With no definitive date for release from the hospital, Stiles and Derek make the effort to get to know a bit more about each other, and one opens up about the greatest loss in his life. Revelations abound, and beauty can be found when least expected.

Stiles sat in his hospital bed, book opened in his lap, paper on the small table, pen in hand and a pencil between his teeth. He wasn’t going to be getting discharged until next week when the Doctors have had a chance to fully assess the damage he did to himself when he fell to the floor. As such, Lydia had dropped off his homework so he wouldn’t get too far behind, and at his prompting, picked up Derek’s as well. 

Derek was outwardly less than thrilled, but still relieved because he didn’t want to fall too far behind. His discharge date was right around when Stiles’ was, if not the same day. He’d have to come back for physiotherapy as he’d endured some nerve damage to his left hand, but luckily that wasn’t his dominant hand. It would take very little to get that one back up to where it had been. Closing his own text book, his eyebrow twitched in amusement.

“Have you even finished reading that page yet?”

Stiles had been working on it for the better part of half an hour. Blinking his eyes rapidly, Stiles spit the pencil out of his mouth and shut the book. Holding it up, it was their History of Psycho-Sexuality text book.

“I remember Mom writing the book. Don’t really need to study it.”

“Then why are you taking it?”

It wasn’t worded as a challenge, just genuine curiosity.

“You’re going to laugh at me if I tell you.”

Derek shook his head. They’d been in here for 4 days now, and hadn’t exchanged much in the line of conversation.

“Try me.”

Stiles picked at the corner of the text book, taking a deep breath.

“It reminds me of her.”

Derek leaned forward on his bed, resting his elbows on his knees with a small wince. Making a gesture for Stiles to continue on, he waited a bit expectantly.

“Mom was a genius. A very keen mind. Her insight into the Intellectually Dominant, and the Physically Dominant was leaps and bounds beyond what was out at the time. And given the fact we’re using that text book still, it hasn’t been matched yet. Her particular insight in the Spiritually Dominant though…there aren’t very many documents out there that even touch the surface of her more basic summaries. Which makes sense given that she was a Spiritual Dominant herself.”

Derek nodded his head.

“Just like you?”

Stiles sighed and nodded slightly.

“Apparently yeah. Where did you fall on the scale?”

“Physical and Intellectual Primaries, Spiritual Tertiary.”

“Brains and brawn. My hero.”

Derek blushed a little and threw an eraser at Stiles who dodged it with a grin.   
“Where did you land?”

“Spiritual Dominant, Intellectual Primary and Physical Secondary.”

Derek’s eyes went wide. To be identified as a Dominant, especially at their age was rare. Being anything beyond a Spiritual Secondary was rare as well. The primaries were usually split between Physical and Intellectual. The fact that Derek was Primary in both, with a Spiritual Tertiary wasn’t the most common, since the blending of his Primaries also helped tap into his Spiritual awareness. With practise, study, and dedication, he’d be able to elevate to a Dominant in one or the other. But Stiles…

“Spiritual Dominant? They’re sure?”

“Took the test a dozen times. They’re sure. So reading through her insights in the text book…the stuff I was too young to learn before she died…it’s like I can hear her talking to me and teaching me what I need to know. Problem is, there are a lot of ways this could manifest.”

Derek leaned back, unable to sit up any longer. Quirking an eyebrow, he shrugged.

“How so?”

“Well. Mom could sense people’s compatibilities. What relationships would work, or not. Sexual compatibility. Whether they are lying or not. She could, if she was careful, ease pain, and I just found out the other day that if she wasn’t careful she could manifest what other people were feeling herself.”

Derek felt his mouth go dry at that revelation, remembering what he’d read on Stiles’ chart. How EXACT some of their injuries were. Not just similar, but identical patterning, only Stiles’ weren’t nearly as bad. Bad enough to warrant hospital time, cranial injury notwithstanding. There was no hint of accusation in Stiles’ voice. Merely relying information that was requested. Feeling himself pale, and his palms start to sweat, he tried to focus on Stiles’ face, which was relaxed and…content.

“My abilities seem to be like hers but I’m also able, in a group setting, to make everyone orgasm at the same time, and relay that feeling to everyone involved as long as they’re touching me. I can manifest injuries when I’m not careful, I can sense lies, and I can tell when a couple has moved into harmony and are going to Declare. All very useful. Well. I can do without the manifesting injuries thing, but I’m working on it.”

Closing his eyes, Stiles felt a sad smile cross his lips.

“I can also sense when someone is so deeply in pain they can’t even tell it themselves. That…that is the loneliest feeling I think I’ve ever felt.”

Derek let the words fall around him. Gripping his blanket, he felt the question spill from his lips like water from a fountain.

“Have you ever felt that before?”

Stiles opened his eyes, and fixed Derek in his gaze. In his calm, open, and understanding gaze.

“I have. Once and only once.”

The silence was pregnant with unspoken thoughts and fears. Derek, who found himself drawn in by the warmth in Stiles’ eyes, welcoming and without judgement, tried to look away but found that he couldn’t. 

“Who?”

The word was whispered, with a silent prayer that Stiles would deny his request, or that the name would be unfamiliar. Stiles, whose eyes suddenly brimmed with tears, crinkling in the corner from the weight on his shoulders, carrying a burden he didn’t know how to carry, whispered back.

“You.”

Almost in unison, both men looked away, and let a silent tear fall, knowing the truth in just a simple word, and the importance it carried. 

After what felt like an infinite period of time, Stiles slid from his bed, and put on his slippers. Shuffling towards the door, he held out his hand to Derek.

“Come with me.”

Derek tore his gaze from the corner of the room, letting the last of the tears fall from his cheeks. Wiping them dry, he gingerly slid from bed, pulling on his own slippers. He didn’t know why he walked forward, and knew even less why he took Stiles’ hand. 

Letting himself be lead by the hand, he was startled at how warm Stiles’ hand was. For some reason, he’d expected it to be cold. Shuffling through hallways, and up the elevator, he followed blindly, feeling the ice cold grip around his heart starting to relax.   
 Following Stiles down the hall, he stopped, and looked through the window. Maternity. They were in the maternity ward, looking through at all the babies without a care in the world.

“When I was little, and couldn’t relax. When I was learning to block everything out, or if Mom was having a rough day, we’d come here. She always said they calmed her down, which I didn’t get at first. They’re always crying and squawking, but then I learned to Listen. And no matter how I felt. How lost, or alone, or sad…After she died I spent a lot of time here.”

Closing his eyes, Stiles relaxed, almost to the point that Derek had to help support him. Being a walking bruise, it was uncomfortable, but he’d manage it if he had to. 

“Why did you bring me here?”

Stiles pressed a finger to his lips.

“Close your eyes, and just listen.”

Derek rolled his eyes, but did as he was told. Feeling a curious prickling warmth in the palm of his hand, where he held Stiles’, he felt a wave of bliss roll through his body. Not the bliss of release he’d so often been denied at Lori’s hands. But the bliss of connection. The simplicity of just being. Letting out a strangled sigh, he felt himself relaxing much the same way Stiles had. Feeling the warmth wrap itself around his core, he felt a small tear roll down his cheek, and a smile that hurt like a bastard, but was worth every twinge cross his face.

Without consciously meaning to, he’d wrapped his arms gingerly around Stiles, resting his forehead on Stiles shoulder, breathing in the smell of grass and honey.

Slowly, he felt the feeling of absolute contentedness subside. While he felt an ache for that bliss, he found that he didn’t miss it per se. Letting out a contented sigh, he looked at Stiles’ bewildered expression.

“Thank you for showing me that. It was…”

Stiles gave him a shy smile.

“…intense.”

Staring into each others eyes, faces only inches apart, Stiles’ arms around Derek’s neck. Derek’s arms around Stiles’ waist, they smiled a shy smile.

“We should…”

“…get back to the room before they come looking for us.”

Derek nodded, stepping back just slightly, arm not trailing too far from Stiles’ waist, under the pretence of helping the smaller man back to his bed. Similarly, Stiles kept his arm wrapped around Derek’s waist. Just in case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter starts touching on some of the divisions of their societal workings. A quick summary and explanation that may have an official entry in the story, but will be helpful to know to put this chapter in context.
> 
> The three main triads are Physical, Intellectual, and Spiritual. 
> 
> The four degrees are Dominant, Primary, Secondary, Tertiary. 
> 
> People more physically inclined are typically your athletes, work more physically demanding jobs, sometimes not the most intelligent people, but not necessarily stupid either.
> 
> People more intellectually inclined are your teachers, scientists, nurses, etc etc. That isn't to say they can't be physically perfect specimens but they're more inclined to the intellectual side of things.
> 
> People more spiritually inclined are a bit more gifted. They are in tune with their environment, with people, and with nuances that most people miss. It's a blending of awareness of the physical, and intellectual, but it's bound with emotion.
> 
> Dominants are at the apex of development of a trait.
> 
> Primaries are naturally gifted in one or more of the traits that make up the bulk of society. With much hard work, they can usually become a Dominant.
> 
> Secondaries are above average in a trait, but it isn't quite as instinctive as the Primaries. Through a lot of hard work, they can sometimes be on par with someone who is a Primary. Very rarely, can they break in to the Dominant level due to the fact they aren't as naturally inclined.
> 
> Tertiaries are traits that are about average. Most people don't worry about things if they land in the tertiary zone.


	9. Arrangements

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Getting out of the hospital, arrangements are made and indirect revelations are shown. Stiles gains a bit of insight into how wounded Derek truly is.

“And you’re sure it won’t be a problem?”

Stiles shook his head, shrugging his shoulders. They were both being discharged, but there was a little concern regarding Derek and his mysterious assault that landed him in the hospital. The house he was staying at with his Uncle Peter was being renovated at the moment so Peter was staying with one of his beaus. They didn’t object to having Derek there, but after walking into the kitchen the last time he’d crashed there and saw what they were doing with the banana and cucumber…he didn’t really want to go through THAT again. 

“I told you. I’ve already talked it over with Dad, Raph and Melissa. They’ve set up the guest room for you and cleared it with Peter. This way you aren’t alone, Melissa’s on hand to make sure you’re recovering, and if you remember anything, Dad or Raph are just down the hall.”

Smiling, Stiles slid off his hospital gown, turning his back to Derek. The red welts were fading to a memory, and the blemishes that blessedly would not scar, leaving only clear skin that was just a little pink. Pulling on one of his comic book T-shirts that Scott had brought for him, he slipped a pair of jeans over the boy cut booty shorts he wore underneath, completely oblivious to the fact that Derek was watching the whole process.

“I just don’t want to put you or your family out.”

Stiles shrugged and crossed the room, slipping into a pair of sandals. He was still moving stiffly, but was a lot more steady on his feet than he was a few days ago. Reaching up he undid the ties on Derek’s gown, and helped ease it off his shoulders. The sliced up skin was still puckered, black stitches holding much of his back together. It would be a while yet until they could all be removed. Stiles frowned a bit at how Derek hissed when the cooler air hit his skin. 

“And for the last time, Melissa wouldn’t have offered if it was an imposition.”

Running his finger tips gently down Derek’s well defined back, he felt Derek stiffen under his touch. Drawing a breath, he drew in the discomfort Derek was feeling at the puckering of his skin with the stitches. The bruising was fading more and more every day.   
“Better?”

“Yeah. You can’t keep doing that though.”

“Why not?”

Derek turned around, the swelling and bruising on his face noticeably lighter, while Stiles’ face was a bit more swollen.

“It isn’t fair to you.”

Stiles clenched his jaw, looking down at the floor. Looking up at Derek, he said through clenched teeth.

“This isn’t fair to you either.”

Indicating the fact that Derek was still largely a walking bruise. His and Stiles’ visits to the maternity ward to soak up the ambient emotions had helped considerably, something about being relaxed making it easier on their bodies to heal. Derek was willing to defer to Stiles on that one as it was well outside of his realm of knowledge. All he knew was that he felt leaps and bounds better coming back from those midnight walks than he thinks he ever had since his Mom died.

Holding open a shirt that Raph had picked up for Derek, Stiles helped ease him into it, leaving him to do up the buttons. Grabbing out a pair of pants that Lydia had picked up for him, Stiles also shook them out to help him into them.

“I think I can handle the pants on my own.”

There was an edge to his voice, the first subtle show of anger since landing in here. Stiles knew it was bubbling under the surface, and everything he’d read said it was to be expected. Handing the pants over, he walked back to his side of the room, not commenting on anything in particular. Digging his cell phone charge out from behind the side table, he wrapped the cord and stuffed it into his overflowing back pack. Seemingly preoccupied with making sure his socks were folded properly, he watched out of the corner of his eye as Derek struggled with the dress pants, unable to bend and turn properly, he stumbled, falling to the floor. In a heartbeat Stiles was there to make sure he was okay, and was thanked with a flailing back hand across the jaw. Sliding back a few inches, Stiles looked up and saw the horrified look on Derek’s face. Smiling broadly, despite the face his face hurt, he inched closer.

“Just making sure you didn’t hurt yourself.”

There was a chuckle in Stiles voice, that didn’t help curb the tears welling in Derek’s eyes.

“I’m sorry…I…I didn’t mean…”

Shaking his head, he helped Derek to his feet, leaving the pants in a crumpled heap, and set his friend on the bed. Drawing Derek into a hug, he let his friend bury his face in his chest, and gently pet Derek’s back. Feeling the absolute terror in Derek about his reaction and how he’d lashed out, Stiles tightened his hug as much as he was willing to risk.   
“Hey now. It’s okay. You didn’t mean to and I know that. I can sense what you’re feeling and it’s okay. You freaked.”

Derek sniffed slightly. Stiles could feel the warm dampness of Derek’s tears soaking through his shirt.

“You aren’t mad?”

Stiles merely chuckled and shook his head.

“Shit happens.”

Pulling back, Derek’s eyes were closed.

“It’s okay. I fucked up. You can punish me if you want.”  
 “Punish?…” Stiles voice trailed off in confusion.

Derek nodded his head and bowed his head like a puppy expecting a newspaper across the nose.

“I did wrong so it’s okay if you punish me.”

Stiles felt a cold finger run down his spine. It was the fearful anticipation of a beating that Derek was projected. Trying to close his eyes and block out the fear and pain that was rolling off his friend, he felt tears spring to his eyes as he pulled a confused Derek into a crushing hug. Feeling Derek’s more powerful arms crush him in their embrace, he shook his head furiously.

“I’ll never hurt you Derek. I’ll never let you get hurt again.”

He felt the certainty in those words wash through him, and into Derek, feeling the other man shudder in his grip, he rested his forehead against Derek’s.

“Do you promise?”

The voice sounded so quiet. So lost.

Without thinking, he tilted Derek’s head back, and pressed a kiss to his lips. It was a gentle kiss, asking for nothing in return. But there was a promise in it as well. That Stiles would live up to his word, or die trying.

“With my heart, I swear that you will never be hurt again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short update after so long. Work's been ridiculous lately.


	10. First Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now discharged from the hospital, they are tasked with finding a new normal. Healing comes in many different ways, and sometimes with someone who is so in tune with you, it helps to address the elephant in the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After a longer than anticipated hiatus, I am back with more offerings to this tale.

Taco Tuesday. If there was ever a day to get discharged from the hospital, taco Tuesday was definitely the day to do it. Rafe and Melissa made the tortilla shells from scratch, baking half of them to be crispy, and leaving the other half as soft shells. John took care of the meat and the sides. Stiles set the table after pulling something together for dessert. Scott…usually got stuck with the clean up because he was “too tired” to help out earlier. 

As it was Derek’s first night staying with them, he was still afforded “guest” status so all he had to do was eat until he passed out. As long as he saves some room for dessert…or at least didn’t throw up from eating too much. 

He’d thought Stiles was joking when he was talking about that being part of their dinner tonight, but as soon as he walked in the door and smelled the glorious smells coming from the kitchen, he immediately knew he was in trouble. It smelled like heaven. The joking and laughing coming from the kitchen, music playing from somewhere in the living room, and the entire relaxed atmosphere in the home felt like a soothing balm on his tattered nerves. Even feeling a smile coming to his still bruised face was a pleasant change. 

Sitting back and observing the interactions, he felt someone brush against his shoulder while pulling the chair beside him out.

“Isn’t it just exhausting watching them?”

Looking over he saw Allison with a smile on her face.

“Two of them are law enforcement officers and one of them is the head nurse at BHGH and they’re bouncing around like they’re our age. On energy drinks. And speed.”

Derek smiled a bit and chuckled softly.  
“Definitely takes a little getting used to I’d imagine. It’s nice though. Reminds me of home.”

“Well this is definitely the place to get a top up on that feeling. I mean, don’t get me wrong. I love my family. They’re great. Kate notwithstanding.”

Derek scowled a little at his ex’s name. She’d been bad…though he was starting to understand not as bad as Lori. Chastizing himself for a half second at thinking the bad thought about Lori, he arrested that thought as well. Late night talks with Stiles before taking their sedatives had helped him process through some of that. Lori…Lori was bad news. Tuning back in, he realized Allison was still talking.

“…but when my Mom and Dad separated and I was trying to sort out what that all meant for me, I know, totally selfish, Scott’s family welcomed me with open arms, and usually a full plate. But trust me. The gym is your friend because these guys like to eat. I don’t get how they’re all still in such great shape. Hell. I hope I look half as good as Melissa does when I’m her age.”

Nodding his head, he was understanding that. The food that Scott has snuck them in the hospital was…rich…to put it mildly. But good. And comforting. Like a hug from the inside. Poking around at the cutlery in front of him, he watched as Stiles put the finishing touches on the pan of mint chocolate chip brownies he had whipped together when they’d barely crossed the threshold of the house. His bags were still in the sitting room, they hadn’t even shown him where he was going to be sleeping for the next while. 

And for once, he didn’t really care about that. Letting the relaxed atmosphere soak into him like he was sliding in to a hot bath, he opened his eyes to see Stiles hovering over him. Flinching a bit from the startle, he couldn’t help but laugh as Stiles tripped over his own feet in his own surprise.

“Holy gee-yod I thought you were asleep.”

The sound was some what muffled as Stiles was face first in the area rug in the dining room. Getting out of the chair, Derek helped him into his chair and did a quick check for injuries. Nothing new at any rate which was definitely a first. 

“You have a nice house.”

Derek even groaned internally at himself for that one. Talk about LAME! Sighing softly, he opened his mouth to say something else, but found a spoon full of frosting there instead. Biting half the frosting off the spoon, his eyes instead rolled back in his head involuntarily. It was heaven. It was butter cream heaven. Holding tightly to the spoon that Stiles tried to take back from him, he shook his head.  
“Mine.”

Cora used to call him, “Caveman Derek” in these sorts of situations. It was primal, he understood that. But good butter cream was hard to come by. It was either too much sugar, not enough butter, or dry and crumbling. This was the perfect balance and he’d be damned if he let anyone take the spoon before it was cleaned off. 

Stiles for his part just threw his hands up in mock surrender and nodded his head.  
“I’m guess it’s good then.”

“Mmmm.”

Derek was in his own little world at the moment.

“Do you and the spoon need a moment?”

“Mmmmhmmmm.”

Snickering, he turned to walk away, but before he did he leaned in and said, “Some day when we’re ready maybe I’ll be the spoon instead?”

Derek either didn’t hear him, or the butter cream was just that good that he just sat there with a zen smile on his face.

Though what Stiles seemed to miss, despite the fledgling bond he and Derek seemed to have developed, was that Derek went immediately to that mental image and chose it as his new happy place.

***

Dinner had come and gone with as much laughter and good natured joking as there was during the meal prep. He felt about three sizes bigger around the midsection after the dinner and double helping of dessert, and was definitely feeling the lethargy that came with finishing a big meal. Insisting on helping with cleaning up, and loading the dishwasher, Derek smiled softly to himself at the relaxing evening he was having.

He’d hated being in the hospital. But the time and distance, and the lens that Stiles helped him start seeing through, had gone a long way to keeping him from beating himself up for everything that he had gone through with Lori. Being out of the hospital now, and being surrounded by people who were genuinely happy to have him there. Cleaning up the mess from the dinner prep was the absolute least he could do.

With the still healing cuts on his back, and the fading bruises, there wasn’t too much he could do either come to think of it. 

As John, Melissa and Rafe retreated to their bedroom, and Scott left with Allison, he stifled a yawn in the recliner he’d sunk into once the fatigue set in.

“I suppose I should probably show you to our room.”

Stiles sounded like he was already in bed and had been asleep for hours. Heavy dinner, after way too many hospital meals, they were both 10 seconds from a food coma.

Grabbing his bags from the living room floor, he managed to resist the temptation to throw them over his shoulder. He’d pulled a stitch doing that when they left the hospital and wasn’t eager for a repeat performance.

“Wait…our room?”

“Trust me. More than enough space. Your Uncle sent along some of your stuff and your bed apparently. The guest room is currently being used as Rafe’s remote office so unless you have FBI clearance, you’re stuck bunking with me.”

“Are you sure I don’t…”

“…want to be an imposition. I know. Believe me.”

Stiles gave him a good natured smile.

“I know. But it isn’t an imposition. And this way, if something happens during the night to either one of us, we have some one there to help us out.”

He wasn’t going to go into any detail on the fact he’d had to almost convince his Dad and Step Parents that this was a good idea. Until now, he’d almost demanded his privacy, especially when he was asleep and vulnerable. It’s why he never had sleep overs with any of his lovers either. 

Derek was different. They’d shared a room, and literally Derek’s trauma. This would be their first night sleeping without sleeping pills though, which would be interesting. But the thought of not having the other man in the room with him, filled Stiles with apprehension. He knew he was being irrational and over protective, but damn it. His friend deserved so much more than what he’d been handed in life.

Opening the door to his room, sure enough, Derek’s queen sized bed was in one corner, with Stiles’ double on the opposite side. An extra chest of drawers was brought in and Derek just had a feeling that Peter had already unpacked all his things in there. It was almost exactly how it had been at his house. Sitting on his bed, he sighed softly at the comforting feel of his mattress. Lori had never spent any time even near his stuff, so there were no negative associations in here. He hadn’t spent much time with his things either except to grab a change of clothes, or collapse from exhaustion from the shit she decided to put him through.

Stiles flopped on his own bed, toeing his shoes off. His own injuries were fading a lot faster as he soaked up the feel good vibes. Looking over at Derek who was struggling to pull the shirt off after unbuttoning it, Stiles soundlessly rolled off the bed and crossed the room. Without saying anything, he gingerly and carefully pulled the shirt off Derek’s back, being careful to not pull any stitches. His warm fingers gently tracing the injuries to make sure none had opened up. Derek relaxed into his touch, even though Stiles wasn’t pulling any of his pain or discomfort. It was nice just to feel a connection. Looking up at Stiles with a smile, he just whispered.

“Thank you.”

Stiles gave him a sad smile, gently pulling Derek to his feet to help him with the pants. Doing his level best to keep his hands north of the underwear line, his bit his lower lip to keep himself focussed. 

“Any time.”

Stepping back, very proud of himself, yet blushing up a storm at the accidental innuendo, Stiles pulled his own shirt off, wincing as it pulled against a cut that had appeared. At the low gasp, Derek was on his feet and pressing his thumb to the small drop of blood that had appeared. Without even thinking, he licked the blood off his thumb, and found the taste…strange.

“Stiles…”

The shorter man turned and looked at him, trying to not feel his heart break at the sad look in Derek’s eyes.

“…I’m sorry that you got hurt because of me.”

Stiles crossed back the two steps he had taken, and pulled Derek into a hug, unconsciously nuzzling his chest.

“I’m sorry you got hurt.”

Wincing a little bit, he felt the question rising in Derek.

“Your chest hair is starting to grow back.”

Derek chuckled.

“I can shave it if you’d find it more comfortable.”

Stiles pulled back and shook his head. Wrapping his arms around himself he shook his head more firmly.

“I’m doing everything in my power to not just lick your stubbly chest right now. I didn’t realize that is one of my things but I guess it is and I really really want to do it, but it’s on a list of things that I want to do with you but I don’t want to do them with you until you’re ready to do them with me because you feel the same mind numbing need to be with me in bed because you love me and not because you feel like you need to thank me. So. And always. Do with it what you want to do with it. And help me be strong enough to not give in to you because I’ve seen your soul and I love it Derek and I love you but you aren’t ready to love me back.”

Stiles hand flew to his mouth, not realizing until afterwards that he’d said it all out loud. Turning his back to Derek, he slid his pants off and crawled into bed.

“I’m sorry.”

Derek for his part was dumbfounded at the declaration. Ordinary Derek would have run out the door. Lori’s version of Derek would have apologized profusely and prepared for a beating. This Derek stood and blinked for a few minutes before looking at Stiles who was pretending to be asleep.

“Thank you for your honesty. And I hope someday I get there. Because you’re right. I want to get on my knees and thank you for taking me in, and treating me well and being warm and inviting and lovely. Now don’t get me wrong. I’m likely going to want to do that regardless. But for the right reasons. So…thank you for respecting me, and respecting that. And for not kicking me out.”

Stile propped himself up on an elbow as Derek climbed into bed. Wiping a tear from his eye, he simply nodded his head.

“You’re my friend Derek. I’m not about to turn my back on you just because of everything we’re both feeling.”

Rolling over, he grabbed a lacrosse ball and threw it at the light switch, plunging the room in to darkness.


	11. Restless Nights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dreams are often our ways of dealing with the trauma of the day. But what happens when the trauma has been building up, and the sedatives we are given suppress out ability to heal?

The night wore on and each person in the Stilinski/McCall house drifted off to their respective slumbers, relaxed and reasonably content with how the day went. In the end room though, one of the residents started to groan low in the back of their throat, thrashing mildly in their sleep.

Flicking his bedside lamp on low, Stiles looked across the room at Derek who seemed to be in the grips of a less than pleasant dream. He had anticipated this when asking to get Derek put in here in the first place, but something about seeing his friend so defenceless but so aggravated really pissed him off. Sitting up a bit, watching as things played out, he knew that this was part of Derek’s mind having to deal with things. The drugged sleep in the hospital denied him the ability to process much, but Stiles was very grateful for the fact that Derek wouldn’t be alone through this. 

What got Stiles flying out of bed and across the room in less than a heartbeat was Derek sitting straight up, inhaling deeply, and letting out a scream that was loud enough to rattle the window. Sitting on the side of Derek’s bed, Stiles felt the tears spring to his eyes, trying to gentle the other man back into bed, while also looking to see if Derek was bleeding again.

The door was thrown open, John and Melissa leading the way, with Rafe hanging back in the hall, not wanting to crowd the room. Derek’s scream had faded to a whimper as he curled up int he prone position, shivering as though he were waiting to be struck. Everyone stood still as statues, calming down, as Derek slowly blinked awake. Suddenly feeling very exposed, he pulled the blanket up to his chest.

“What happened? Why is everyone in here…”

Everyone was quiet for a moment, but fortunately Stiles piped up.

“You were a bit restless. Caught in a bad dream. You yelled. They freaked. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t bleeding.”

Derek turned red from embarrassment.

“I’m sorry. I’ll get a hotel if that makes it easier…”

Melissa for her part shook her head, crossing the room, and sitting on the other side of it. Taking his hand gently, she gave him the best motherly smile she could, despite her obvious tiredness.

“I wouldn’t dream of it. You need to rest and recover, and if you pull a stitch well…”

She threw her thumb over her shoulder indicating her two husbands.

“Those turkeys are the reason I have a suture kit stashed in the back of the medicine cabinet. Keep you out of the hospital because I’m sure they have nothing on my cooking.”

Absent mindedly, she pressed a maternal kiss to his forehead, ruffling his hair like he was her child. It was oddly calming, and a gesture of familiarity that had been too long gone from his life. Sinking back in the pillow, he nodded his head.

“I’m still sorry.”

Smiling a soft smile, she nodded her head.

“Apology accepted. You boys. Get some sleep.”

Melissa dragged John out of the room, pulling the door closed behind her. 

“By the way. My folks sleep naked and don’t always remember where they put their robes if they are woken up in the middle of the night.”

Derek chuckled.

“I noticed that.”

Stiles snickered slightly.

“Come on. You should hop in the shower and wash up before you go back to bed. I’ll have everything taken care of before you get back into the room.”

Derek looked down and away in sheer mortification.

“You were screaming in mortal terror Derek. It’s a natural response.”

“It’s embarrassing.”

“Der…”

“NO! It’s embarrassing. I screamed loud enough to bring a cop and an FBI guy barrelling down the hall, naked, and I pissed my bed at the age of 18. It’s fucking humiliating.”

Stiles bit his tongue. This close, he couldn’t help but feel what Derek was feeling. So instead, he nodded.

“Yup. It would be. Still doesn’t change the fact that your sheets need to get changed, and you need a shower. Bathroom is right across the hall, and I WILL get these into the laundry or else we are throwing these out in the morning, but I am NOT letting you sleep in these sheets.”

Stiles tried to keep his voice as neutral as he possibly could. Raising an eyebrow at Derek, Derek just rolled his eyes and got out of bed.

“Leave the underwear I’ll throw that in the same wash.”

Growling slightly, Derek stripped down and walked out of the room, directly into the bathroom and started the shower. It did not escape Derek’s notice that the shower was big enough to EASILY fit at least three people in, with enough sprays all over the walls and ceilings that they could all have an actual shower, even if there were no sexcapades.   
Stiles for his part stripped the bed down to the bare mattress, and lugged everything into the basement. Looking at the washing instructions, he rolled his eyes. Of course Derek would have bamboo bedding. Luckily, it was washable. Tossing it all in with a healthy amount of soap, and an enzyme breaker, he set the wash cycle to the longest one possible. Looking at the clock, it would be done about an before they had to go to school, so he made a note to change it over to the dryer before leaving the following day for class.

Grabbing a bottle of water out of the fridge, he downed half of it, looking out the kitchen window. Swearing to whoever was listening, if he was given the opportunity to meet the person who had done this to Derek, he promised there would be slow and painful revenge. Finishing the bottle of water, he heard the shower turn off. 

By the time Stiles was back upstairs, Derek had finished in the shower, and was back in the room with a towel wrapped around his waist, looking through all of the things that Peter had brought. 

“He only brought one set of sheets.”

Stiles sighed. All the beds in the house were either California King, or Double. All the King sized bedding was in his parents’ room. 

“Well. Throw on a pair of underwear and crawl in.”

Stiles climbed into bed. So much for resisting any form of temptation it would seem. It was a double bed. Not the most comfortable for sharing, but he wasn’t about to make Derek sleep on a bare mattress after what just happened. Mattress warranties were the devil when it came to bodily fluids.

“But I just…”

“I know what you just did. And if it happens again then we’ll deal. But I’m not on board with you sleeping on a bare mattress without proper bedding. Just like your bed, mine has a mattress protector. Hypoallergenic bedding. Is pretty comfortable. Just not nearly as big. I’m a side sleeper, and hug the edge anyway, so you have most of the bed.”

Throwing the blankets over as an invitation.

“So climb in and go to sleep. I have absolutely no doubt you’re tired.”

Derek groaned internally as he slid on a pair of underwear and crawled under the covers with Stiles. Without thinking about it, he turned towards Stiles so his back wasn’t touching the bed. Slipping an arm over Stiles, he pulled Stiles closer to him as he drifted immediately back to sleep. 

Stiles lay awake, being held gingerly in Derek’s arms. Allowing himself to relax, this was virgin territory for him. With physical proximity, he had a hell of a time shielding, and he didn’t think he’d be able to in his sleep.

Eventually, exhaustion had won the war, pulling Stiles into a deep sleep. 

Tonight, there were no more nightmares.


	12. Confusing Mornings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some trigger warnings: Flashbacks of past abuse.

Derek felt himself slowly floating towards the surface of consciousness, happily experiencing the art of waking up without the haze of drugs running through his system. Nuzzling under the blankets, he felt perfectly content to just lay there, but the annoying voice in the back of his head reminded him that he was fit for going back to school today. Not allowing the thought to take hold, he clutched the pillow closer to his body and let his mind just drift.

As he held the pillow tighter, he became aware that it was…moving. Eyes shooting open at that, he felt the memory of last night come rushing back. The attempt to sleep. The screaming. The…incident that required his bedding to be laundered. Finally, the memory of Stiles inviting him to sleep in his bed, so he didn’t have to risk discomfort trying to get a few winks of sleep. Looking down at the ‘pillow’ he realized that it was Stiles he was snuggling so tightly. Releasing his hold a bit so Stiles could slide back, he was a little surprised that the sleeping man held on tighter to prevent them from separating.

“Nuh-uh. Warm. Nice.”

“Stiles…” Derek started tentatively.

“Mmm?” was the dozy response.

“You’re still sleeping Stiles. I’m not a pillow.”

“No. You’re Derek. And you’re warm.”

Opening his sleepy eyes, he smiled softly.

“Cuddle?”

Derek was momentarily caught off guard. Looking at the clock, it was barely 6am. They wouldn’t have to be up for at least 45 minutes. Tentatively sliding his arm back over Stiles’ side, he found his bed partner nuzzling his face into his stubbly chest, and sighing contentedly. 

“Mmmm. Warm. Nice.”

The usually expressive teenager seemed to be a monosyllabic cuddle bug when the sun was still below the horizon. His eyes drifting slowly closed, Derek relaxed, allowing himself to enjoy the tangle of limbs under the blanket. Far from the suffocating feeling he was expecting, having been denied the pleasure of cuddling with anyone for far too long, he felt the pinprick of tears threatening to spill down his cheeks. This was so blessedly…normal…something that he had forgotten how much he missed. Lori would never indulge this side of him. She really didn’t indulge any side of him. 

Sinking into Stiles arms further, he let out a choked moan when Stiles shifted against his leg. There were some universal truths about men in the morning, and it would seem that Stiles was living up to that stereotype. Then again, so was he. As much as he wanted to think this was just innocent cuddling, there was definitely that feeling that…perhaps not. Not entirely. Resting his forehead against Stiles, after adjusting himself a little under the covers, he rubbed his nose against the other man’s. 

Stiles opened his eyes with a puzzled look on his face. 

“No sex.”

“I wasn’t…”

Stiles just gave him a look. It wasn’t cruel. It wasn’t biting. It was a teeny tiny bit sarcastic, but Derek was known for casting some sarcasm with his own eyebrows so he wasn’t going to hold it against Stilinski. 

“Okay maybe I was thinking it a little bit.”

Stiles ran his finger tips down Derek’s back, carefully avoiding the stitches and bandages. Shivering at the gentle touch, he couldn’t help but moan a little bit. It had been so long since anyone just…touched him. His mind was awash in confusion of feeling and sensation. He could tell it was all in his own head. There was a…tell tale whisper if Stiles was sharing what he was thinking or feeling with him, usually meant to keep Derek calm and help him past the waves of self loathing and bitterness he was finding himself drowning in.

“I told you last night Der. I’m not in any rush. You don’t have to feel obligated to do anything, and I don’t think either you or I are ready for anything that intense.”

Derek looked down and away in shame at what he was thinking and feeling. Feeling his chin being gently turned to make him look in Stiles eyes, all he saw instead of anger and recrimination, was tenderness and understanding. Feeling Stiles press his lips against Derek’s, he felt fireworks run the length of his skin. It was a gentle kiss, but definitely something that promised more. A lot more. Later. That was not the kiss of a friend. Opening up to the small slip of tongue that Stiles proffered, he hummed contentedly at the lazy back and forth. Breaking the kiss, because he knew he wasn’t going to be able to control himself much, he rolled back carefully to stare at the ceiling while Stiles shifted to rest his cheek on Derek’s chest.

Feeling the earlier pinpricks of tears, he threw his arm over his eyes, allowing himself to shed the tears while mumbling.

“Why are you so good to me Stiles. You barely even know me.”

Stiles was quiet for a good long while. Long enough that Derek was starting to feel a knot in his stomach.

“Why don’t you believe you deserve it?”

Derek pulled his arm back, aware of the tear tracks on his face. He was just so tired of having to stay strong all the time. It felt that in these four walls, not even the house, but here in Stiles’ room where he could freak out in the night, and piss his bed, and still be held and able to hold someone who only wanted to hold him back. But in this room, he felt that he could truly and completely let his guard down. Looking down at Stiles whose beautiful sad eyes, that were so innocent, but he knew the pain that everyone was feeling because that’s just who he was. He had filtered it all out, and focussed his intensity on Derek, and for the first time, Derek felt naked. Stripped of all his defences.

“Because I’m not worth it.”

He said it. The truth. The truth as he’d been made to see it, from Lori. Kate had up and left him for one of her brother’s hunting buddies. He’d been rejected and taken in by someone who turned out to be a total psycho. A psycho who beat him, cut him up, and left him for dead at a bus station.

“I’m just a whore. A dirty little slut that just takes and takes. All I am is a body and a bank account, and I don’t deserve to be treated like…”

His body was wracked with sobs. He repeated the words that Lori had drilled into him. Had made him repeat while she beat him and whipped him, and broke him down. Not even aware of anything beyond the fact he was having a hard time taking a breath, he suddenly found Stiles straddling him, arms and legs holding him tight. Wrapping his arms around Stiles he squeezed, as though afraid of letting go in case he was still in the hospital, and the other man was just a figment of his imagination. 

Feeling his face being peppered with small kisses, and an added dampness. Stiles was crying, silently, trying to distract Derek from the self destructive hole he was climbing down. Watching Stiles lips moving at a rapid pace, he wasn’t able to register the words immediately. All he heard was the blood rushing in his ears and the cruel taunting of his ex-girlfriend.

“…’re worth it. You’re worth it. You’re loveable. You’re kind. You’re smart. You’re sweet. You’re good. You’re kind.”

“Stiles?”

“You’re my friend. You’re good. You’re worth it. You’re loveable. You’re…”

Stiles was caught in a repeater loop. He was overloaded. His eyes were clenched shut and he was rocking himself, draped across Derek’s chest. Taking a deep breath, he keeps repeating it. Derek lay there, looking up at someone who he had accidentally hurt, repeating a litany of words that he thought about Derek. Wrapping his arms around Stiles, he pulled the frantic dear to his chest, letting his own tears mix with Stiles until they had both calmed down.

Feeling Stiles relax, he relaxed his own grip. Looking at the clock, it was only 6:30. Looking down at Stiles who was chewing his thumbnail, he pressed a kiss to Stiles’ forehead.

“You back with me?”

“You back with me?”

Derek smiled, not an entirely happy smile. He acknowledged that he was the one who kicked that off.

“I guess I have somethings to work through Stiles. You’re right. Sex right now…would be a confusing idea to say the least.”

Stiles returned the ‘not entirely happy’ grin himself. 

“We both have somethings to work through. I’m sorry if I freaked you out I just…got this wave of…something from you and just…it was pretty intense. I’ve never felt something like that before.”

Derek nodded and scooted up carefully in the bed so he didn’t pull a stitch.

“Do you want me to go?”

Stiles felt the temperature in the room drop about ten degrees.

“I can rent a hotel until I’m able to go back to m-“

“No.”

“But.”

“No.” Stiles was significantly more forceful this time.

Derek killed the protest before it had a chance to leave his mouth. There was something in the lost look in Stiles’ eyes when he said it the second time.

“I…”

Stiles sighed and slid out of bed.

“…want you to stay. With me. For as long as you can stand me.”

Walking across the room, he strips out of what he wore to bed and threw it into the laundry hamper.

“But first, if you’ll excuse me. I’m going to jump in the shower, and quite likely masturbate to the thought of you laying here in my bed because even though we both had a mutual freak out about different things that I don’t fully understand yet, you are sexy as all hell and absolutely beautiful inside and out, and I apparently am a sick puppy for still being so majorly turned on by you…”

He pointed down to prove his point.

“…despite everything so I’m going to and take care of this, while you take care of that.”

Stiles pointed at the fact that Derek’s dick was starting to peek out from the elastic band of his underwear.

“And after you’re done, feel free to join me in the shower because…”

Stiles sighs, looking down and wincing a little.

“I don’t want to be alone.”


	13. It All Seems So...Normal

Stiles stood in the shower, having attended to his most pressing issue, and just let the pounding water beat a tattoo against his bruised and aching back. 

“There is no shame in wanting to be around someone,” he kept telling himself, even though he felt more than a little embarrassed by how much he felt the need to be around Derek. From what he could tell, even without reaching out with his unique perception, Derek seemed to enjoying the companionship, and if anything was feeling a bit bolstered knowing someone wanted him around just because he was Derek.

Turning around as the bathroom door opened, he moved across the shower and through the varying shower heads to get to the door and push it open, allowing Derek entrance to join him. Without thinking, he went on his tip toes to give Derek a kiss. Finding there was a little ‘extra’ to the kiss he pulled back with a dopey smile, made all the wider with the small wince that Derek gave him.

“Stiles. That was…”

“Oh I know what that was.”

Stiles licked his lips with a bit of a grin. 

“Almost a better taste to wake up to than coffee. Almost.”  
“You’re killing me. You know that. You are going to kill me Stiles.”

Stiles just laughed, and pulled Derek the rest of the way into the shower. Grabbing the body wash and a soft sponge, he Indicated to Derek to turn around. Carefully washing around the few remaining stitches and was happy to see that the bruising had largely faded.

“Another couple days and Melissa can probably take out the rest of the stitches. The bruising’s almost gone too.”

Wrapping his arms around Derek from behind, he scrubbed the taller man’s chest, applying a bit more pressure to some of the harder to clean spots. Taking his time as an excuse to run both of his hands through the stubble that was growing, Stiles smiled a secret smile to himself at the way Derek’s head lolled back, and a very pleased and relaxed moan slipped out as thank you. Derek liked belly rubs it would seem. 

Tilting his head forward, Derek pulled away slightly, but plucked the sponge from Stiles hand, and loaded it up with more body wash. Citrus scented. Very clean. Turning Stiles around, he carefully washed Stiles back, which he could have sworn was a bit more bruised today than it was last night.

“Stiles…” his voice had a warning tone to it. Seeing the blush starting in the middle of his back, Derek shook his head. Leaning forward, after rinsing off Stiles back, he pressed a feathery kiss to each of the now darker bruises. He couldn’t stop Stiles from taking his pain. He didn’t have to like it. But part of his was singing at the fact that, at least for right now, he had someone who apparently cared so much about him, he wanted to help him rather than harm him.

“I know. You don’t have to say anything. But…it just isn’t fair that you’re so hurt…”

“Stiles. I don’t want you hurting yourself. I don’t. I feel guilty enough about the fact you landed in the hospital because of me. But. I also get the sense that me being upset with you probably won’t do anything to get you to stop because you’re either just that kind, or just that stubborn.”

“Both?”

“That’s my bet. So instead. I’ll just say thank you, for helping me recover and heal.”

Turning Stiles around he pressed a kiss to his forehead and reluctantly turned off the shower. Grabbing the plush towels, he fired one at Stiles head, laughing at the flailing way he actually managed to catch it. Heading back into Stiles’ room with their towels around their waists, they dressed and grabbed their bags for school.

Heading downstairs, Rafe was once again in the kitchen, the Sheriff was by the coffee maker, and Melissa was seated at the table, munching on a piece of toast, sipping a cup of coffee and flipping through the newspaper. Stiles grabbed two cups of coffee from his Dad and snagged two plates of food from his Step-Dad. Taking them over to the table, he nodded that Derek should grab a seat. Eggs, bacon, toast and home fries. Feeling his mouth water, he took a sip of the coffee and a bite of the food.

“I’m gonna get fat staying here.”

Melissa just snickered. The tips of Derek’s ears went red. He’d meant that to be his inside voice. Leaping up, he was shaking his head.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…that is…I’m so sorry that I offended you. I-“

Derek’s words were cut short at the smallest brush against the back of his hand. Lowering himself carefully into the chair, his gaze was focussed on his plate. After a few moments, he risked looking up, expecting to see disappointment on everyone’s face. Or anger. Instead, he saw a concerned look on Melissa’s face, John and Rafe looking upset, but not at him. Sharing a look between them that was one part anger and one part fierce protection. Looking over at Stiles, he realized that the other man was just holding his hand, rubbing his thumb across his palm. Taking a deep breath, whatever tension was in the room evaporated in an instant.

“No offence taken Derek. It’s that thought exactly that is why we have workout equipment in the basement. Though I’m pretty sure from how smitten Stiles is with you, he’d probably give you enough of a work out upstairs that you’ll need a second plate of food anyway.”

Rafe snickered at his wife.

“You’re awful.”

Stiles was looking a little red around the ears, but he also wasn’t exactly denying the statement either. Derek quirked an eyebrow at him, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze back.

“Besides. Life’s too short for shitty food. And tonight, if you’re up to it, you’re gonna help in the kitchen so we can share the guilt of rich creamy alfredo sauce, shrimp and some kind of noodles that you and Stiles will have to pick up after school.”

Derek smiled…genuinely smiled…at the invitation. Growing up in his own house, before everything had happened, the act of preparing and cooking the family meal was an important one. It was what brought them all together, and a way for them to reconnect in each others lives. Now, it was just him, Peter and Cora. Though he got the sense that the Stilinski-McCall household was not too dissimilar to his own in that regard. It certainly seemed to be ruled by “Mom” here as well.

“I’d love to. I actually know a few recipes do make fettuccini and shrimp alfredo from scratch, so if you don’t mind waiting a bit longer for dinner I can do the pasta too.”

John’s smile reached his eyes.

“Stiles. Marry this boy. Marry him now.”

“Is it pick on Stiles day? Did I miss a memo?”

He was smiling and in great humour, showing he didn’t mind. Besides. With all of them talking, Derek didn’t notice that he’d purloined a few pieces of his bacon. Blushing just slightly when Derek kissed his temple, he felt his heart melt to a puddle in his chest. 

“You like it. I can tell.”

Stiles snickered.

“And how can you tell?”

Leaning in, Derek whispered in his ear.

“I feel you in my heart.”

Breakfast continued on with good natured joking, Derek even bringing something to the table. The pure joy of family bliss was doing more good for Derek’s fractured well being than he even realized. By the time all was said and done, and it was time to go to school, he had a bounce in his step that he hadn’t realized was missing.

Sliding into Stiles’ Jeep, he pulled on his seat belt and looked out the window.

“Stiles?”

“Mmm?”

“Feel free to say no if you think this is rushing it too much but…this weekend do you want to go on a date?”

Stiles smiled.

“A date? With…just you?”

Derek nodded, picking at his thumbnail. He shrugged a little sheepishly.  
“I know we don’t want to rush into anything given…everything that happened…and I don’t want you to think I’m rebounding because you are definitely not rebound but a serious life choice for the absolute better of everything but I would like to go for dinner and a movie and I’d like it to be just with you, and just with me and why aren’t you saying anything?”

Derek’s eyes held just the slightest twinge of panic.

“Maybe because you won’t let me get a word in edgewise which hey…that’s my thing. And because I was thinking of a way to say yes without sounding like an eager puppy dog who is cursing the fact that it’s only Wednesday and I’m pretty sure you’re thinking Saturday for the double feature.”

Derek relaxed into the seat.

“So that’s a yes?”

“That’s a yes.”

“Boyfriend?”

Stiles looked over at him and actually chuckled. Derek was a romantic. 

Looking back on this moment years down the road, Stiles would swear up and down that he meant to say something silly and a bit sarcastic, but honest and genuine all at the same time. And Derek, down the road, would not let him get away with retconning their story.

“I thought you’d never ask.”


	14. Revelations

The school day came and went much as they ever did before the incident had happened to Derek. Thankfully, due in large part to Lydia running their assignments to and from the school, they weren’t behind by more than a day in most of their lessons. Derek had a few minor anxiety attacks through the day, but with Stiles sitting just behind him, pressing his foot to the small of Derek’s back (the desks and chairs made reaching over super obvious) had helped calm those down. 

Derek did have another stress moment that was completely unfounded when lunch time rolled around. He hadn’t packed a lunch and realized way too late that he left his wallet and cash at the house. That’s when Scott and Stiles indicated he should actually LOOK inside his bag, he felt his mouth immediately start to water.

“Left over tacos.”

A grin spread across his face and he was in a food coma by the end of their lunch period. 

Rounding out the day, Stiles drove him back to the hospital for an assessment for the physiotherapist to work with him on his left arm and the minor nerve damage there, and get a closer look at the damage to his eye and eye socket. Melissa had put in a couple calls and while they were doing all that, a dental surgeon was going to come in and take a look at the situation with the missing teeth. Of course, due to the fact Stiles isn’t actually family, he’s not allowed IN for any of the appointments, so he contents himself to sit in the hallway and work on his homework.

Flipping through his physics text book, he was vaguely aware of a person sitting down beside him. Looking over to say hi, he did a double take and jumped to his feet, almost dropping the book on the floor.

“You have some guts showing up here you cold hearted bitch.”

Kate looked over at Stiles with her typical shit eating grin. Inviting him to sit back down beside her, she leaned back and crossed her legs.

“You do have a way with words Mr. Stilinski. Sit down. Don’t make a scene. See. I may be innocent of the charges that were brought against me about Derek’s family…but that isn’t to say I’m not guilty of similar.”

Going a bit pale, he sat down, a reasonably healthy distance away. 

Kate Argent, in the flesh, sitting outside of the room where her ex-boyfriend was finding out what sort of dental implant options he had to replace his missing teeth. Kate hadn’t even been considered a suspect for what had happened to Derek as she had a solid alibi of being in New York, on TV of all places, doing an interview on live television at the time Derek had been dumped in front of the bus station.

“Derek hadn’t updated his secondary emergency contact and I was still listed. Your Dad got to make the phone call which I’m so sure just thrilled him to pieces and since I didn’t know if Peter was around, I figured I’d make the trip.”

If looks could kill, she’d be on the floor at least mortally wounded.

“He’d been stuck in here for weeks before we finally got discharged. And you’re just showing up now?”

Sneering back at Stiles, she shrugged.

“Baby Doll. I’m an ex-girlfriend for a reason. A reason beyond sleeping with one of my brother’s friends. He and I were doomed from the start. But after I heard what actually happened, yeah. I got the next flight out here to make sure he was being taken care of. Your Dad have a clue who it is?”

Stiles looked at the floor and shook his head. He raged an active debate on how much he told her, but for some reason…he didn’t think it would be the worst thing in the world to give her some details.

“Still isn’t saying.”

At that, Kate frowned.

“Look. I may have been a shitty girlfriend, but god knows I never raised a hand to him unless he asked me to and we had a safe word. Derek was sweet as candy, if a little naive. You find out who fucked him over this badly and if your Dad can’t take care of it…you tell Allison to let me know. I’ll make it right.”

Getting to her feet, she walked down the hallway, letting her heels clack away. Before she could turn towards the exit, Stiles looked up and called after her.

“Hey Kate.”

She stopped and turned around.

“You’re a bitch.”

She laughed at that, and smiled right back at him.

“And he deserves you.”

“I mean it.”

Kate actually let her condescending smile drop, to a more honest grin. Tilting her chin up, she says, not unkindly, “I do too. Take care of him Stilinski. Or I’m coming after you next.”

With that, she left the building. Stiles looked down at his homework, realizing it wasn’t going to get done any time soon, he felt his mood darken. Packing his books away he slumped down on the bench. Firing a text to his Dad and Rafe, he waited impatiently for Derek’s appointment to wrap up. Looking at the clock, he paced the hall, and replied to his Dad and Rafe once they finally got back to him. 

Finally, Derek came out of the room he’d been in for a while, a smile on his face, but looking a bit concerned at the fact that Stiles was so agitated. Fighting against the rising anxiety, Derek called out to him. 

“Stiles! Everything okay?”

In a blur of motion, Derek found himself wrapped in Stiles’ arms, but the other man was shaking like a leaf. A look of concern crossed Derek’s face as he pressed a kiss to Stiles’ forehead.

“Stiles. What’s wrong?”

Stiles eyes were squeezed shut, and he was obviously trying to control his breathing. A feat that was becoming easier and easier the longer Derek held him. After a few moments, he had sufficiently calmed down.

“Sorry. Sorry. Just way too much time with my thoughts. Ran into someone I really dislike. And they are shit at shielding anything they’re feeling. Need to work out some of the aggression.”

Stiles let himself get wrapped up in Derek’s arms. Shivering as Derek whispered in his ear.

“I know of a couple ways…” and he proceeded to nibble on Stiles’ ear. Almost coming undone right there, he laughed.

“As much as I want to say yes,” he pressed himself against Derek’s thigh. “Believe me. I do. You have to make dinner for all of us, and we agreed to hold off on that.”

Derek smiled a sheepish smile.

“Can’t blame a man for trying.”

“Oh believe me. I don’t. I blush. I wonder why me. But I don’t blame.”

Derek smiled, grabbing his bag and Stiles’, then laced his fingers with Stiles and lead them out, telling Stiles that the dental surgeon was going to go back to previous x-rays to model the replacement implants from. The physiotherapist had a bright prognosis for his nerve damage. His eye was blessedly free of long lasting damage and with the swelling and bruising miraculously down, there wasn’t even going to be much in the line of scars, save for a little line of scar tissue that ran through his eyebrow. And as an added bonus, the stitches had been removed as well. He would still have to be very careful for the next week or so, but he was healing well ahead of schedule.

***

After picking up the ingredients for dinner, Stiles found himself in a much improved mood. After dinner itself he was in a great mood. Loading the last of the dishes in the dishwasher, he looked up as John and Rafe came into the kitchen.

“Meet you downstairs?”

Stiles nodded his head.

“As soon as we’re done here.”

They disappeared to the basement, leaving the door open. 

Cocking his head in curiosity Derek quirked an eyebrow.

“Work out some of the aggression from earlier.”

Disappearing upstairs, Derek heard him rustling around in the room, before the telltale sound of a closing closet door. A few moments later Stiles was bounding down the stairs, two at a time, wearing a pair of loose fitting shorts that would allow a decent amount of motion, and nothing else. Seeing the pattern of shallow cuts on Stiles’ back as well as some of the bruising, he figured out why he’d been able to get his stitches out so soon. 

Jumping a bit at Melissa’s cold hand, Derek looked over at her. She had a kind look on her face as counter point to the frustrated one on his.

“His cuts are going to scar now aren’t they?”

Melissa merely nodded, escorting him to the basement.

“His and yours will. Yours won’t be as severe as they could have been.”

“His shouldn’t exist at all.”

“Neither should yours Derek.”

She lead him over to where there was a stack of tumbling mats stacked on the floor and sat down. Reaching over the side, she grabbed a beer for herself and one for Derek. Hesitantly taking it, he looked at the two law enforcement officers who merely nodded a greeting at him and turned back towards Stiles who was stretching out.

Taking a sip of the beer, he looked up as Rafe sat beside him.

“What’re you guys doing down here? And why does it look like Stiles is learning how to fight?”

Rafe smiled. 

“Because he is. He’s the son of the county Sheriff, and the step son of an FBI agent. Ever since he was little, he’s been learning a lot of self defence because…well…we are worried that he might need it one day. Through no fault of his own, but because of his Dad and me. He’s actually pretty good. Now that his growth his levelling out and can focus a bit more, he’s doing better than when he was a kid.”  
From halfway across the basement, there’s a muffled curse and the sound of a rack falling over.

“Of course. He’s still Stiles so…”

Derek chuckled and took a pull from his beer. 

After Stiles extricated himself from the rack he’d knocked over, he walked back to the tumbling pads and squared off against his father. Derek leaned forward a bit, having never really taken up any martial arts. He could throw a punch if he had the mind to, but that was really about it. 

This was something different. This was focussed and controlled. Not two words often used in Stiles’ day to day life. But. It made sense. He had to keep such keen and exact control of his mind to keep his emotions from bleeding out on everyone, or to avoid picking up the emotions everyone was oozing around him, it made sense that Stiles would be learning something like this.

And with two of his Dads in law enforcement…that also made sense. Which did leave Derek wondering for half a moment why Scott wasn’t down here.

The thought was interrupted as Stiles rolled into the stack of mats that Derek, Melissa and Rafe were sitting on.

“Focus.” The sheriff called from the centre of the mat. 

Stiles bounded to his feet and was squaring off with his father again. As they circled each other, the sheriff went in for a jab which Stiles blocked easily. John moved again, trying to find an opening, but Stiles seemed to be falling back into a rhythm with his father. Ducking under another punch, Stiles delivered a sharp jab to his Dad’s ribs. Not enough to hurt, but it was noticed. The older man stepped back, reassessing and looking a tiny bit perplexed. Stiles wasn’t usually this focussed. 

Switching out with Rafe, the taller man bounded out and before Stiles could react to the change of parent, he was throwing his arms up in a block to avoid the kick Rate was trying to deliver to his rib cage. Thrusting Rafe’s leg back, Stiles stepped in trying to deliver a strike down at Rafe’s ankle to hobble him. Only a last minute jump back kept it from connecting. 

They circled each other, taking a few hits back and forth, but Stiles was proving to be a stubborn adversary. He definitely wouldn’t win if their of the older men were fighting him earnest, but for sparring he was doing quite well. 

Leaning over, John whispered to Derek. “Do you trust that we won’t hurt you if I tell Stiles we are going to attack you?”

Derek’s eyebrows almost shot to the back of his head. Taking a moment, he nodded hesitantly. The Sheriff was asking him, someone who had been horribly beaten, if he trusted him in this situation. Thinking it through though, there was something the older Stilinski was thinking. Watching Stiles, he had a lingering suspicion he knew what it was. Nodding more firmly, he got to his feet, somewhat glad Melissa had given him the beer.

“Okay. Time out there Stiles. We were worried you being in the hospital would make you sloppy but…” he glanced over at Derek. “You seem to have better focus than ever. So Derek is going to stand in and Rafe and I are going to try and get to him.”

Stiles looked less than amused, but with the fact that Derek got on the mats, albeit a little reluctantly still, Stiles was accepting of it. 

Moving so Derek was at his back, he watched warily between his Dad and Step-Dad, trying to keep his focus on both of them. Taking a deep breath to centre himself, he felt more than saw John lunge in at the same time Rafe tried to dodge around him. Swinging out with his right leg, he was able to kick Rafe on a different trajectory towards the stack of mats, before shifting his momentum, and body slamming his father to the ground. Rolling off his Dad, he stood ready for a second round, but his Dad and Rafe just stayed where he felled them. 

His chest heaving, and sweating heavily, he looked in shock at what he did. Melissa wasn’t looking concerned so no-one was that hurt, but Derek was looking at him with wide eyes. He could feel that Derek was…impressed? Flattered? More than a little turned on.

From the ground, his Dad groaned before getting to his feet.

“Yeah that’s what I thought.”

Rafe walked back over to the mats, sporting a bit of a red mark from skidding across the mats on his face. 

“God fucking help anyone who tries to hurt Derek when you’re around.”

Melissa and her husbands left the basement without another word. 

Stiles turned around and looked at Derek, feeling the adrenaline wearing off. Opening his mouth to say something, he found his mouth blocked with Derek’s. Sinking into the kiss, he suddenly became very aware of his state of undress. Pulling back, he crossed an arm across his chest, feeling, all of a sudden, very exposed.

“You’re beautiful.”

Blushing down to his belly button, he toed at the mat.

“You’re gorgeous.”

Derek was silent for a moment. The brief demonstration down here showed him something. Stiles was able to fight for him. To protect him. To be brave for him.

“I…I need to talk to your Dads.”

Not exactly the response Stiles was anticipating.

“I know who…did this…to me.”

Stiles felt as though all the air had been sucked out of the room.

“I know who almost killed me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason, I really like the idea of our sensitive, empathetic Stiles, also being able to throw down to defend his boyfriend's honour if the need should arise. Of course...this is STILL Stiles we are talking about.


	15. Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the wee hours of the night, Derek tells the story of what was happening at the hands of Lori, and reveals what brought about the savage beating that left him bloody and unconscious in front of a bus station. 
> 
> Trigger Warning in the Notes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: Physical abuse. Sexual abuse. Emotional abuse. 
> 
> I don't blame anyone who skips this chapter. I really don't. I wrote it to keep it authentic to the story. It was a bloody difficult chapter to write, and took me way longer than you might expect. If you read it, please go easy on me in the comments.

It hadn’t taken long for everyone to shower and get ready to leave. Tonight. He had to do this tonight while he still had the resolve and willingness to do it. She could be out there, right now, getting ready to do to another person what she had done to him. If he didn’t say anything, then he’d feel the guilt if it happened again. They made their way in a tense silence across town to the Sheriff’s station that was manned at this late hour by only a small handful of people. It was odd walking in being flanked by a Sheriff, and FBI agent, an off duty nurse…and his boyfriend holding is hand the entire way. He felt the nerves in the pit of his stomach. He’d been reluctantly forced to agree to NOT have Stiles in the room with him while he was giving his deposition and filing charges, in case the presence of someone with Stiles’ ability could be seen by the defence attorney as witness tampering. 

While when he got older, Stiles would likely be sought after as an adjudicator or a judge because of his unique abilities, the fact that he was the declared boyfriend of the person making the statement, it would stand against them. He was allowed to watch from the other side of the one way mirror. Once everything had been set up in the room, Stiles and Melissa sat down on the other side of the glass, waiting for the witness statement to start. It was being recorded, and Derek had waived his right to have a lawyer present. He had nothing to hide. 

Going through the perfunctory beginning of recording the date, location, and names of everyone present, Rafe smoothed his tie and leaned forward.

“Mr. Hale. Would you mind telling us in your own words about what happened that lead to the night you were admitted to Beacon Hills General Hospital?”

Such a bland and bloodless way of describing over a year of abuse at the hands of someone who had not only convinced him that she loved him, but convinced him she was the only person who ever could. Glancing at the mirror, he felt his mouth go dry. He was convinced that that wasn’t true. But he was also afraid that the person on the other side of the mirror would run from him and never look back. Taking a sip of water, he nodded his head.

“It started a little over a year ago. I can’t remember the exact date. I met Lori Bishop at a store and bumped into her completely by accident. I apologized, we talked a little bit, and before we made it to the cash register, she’d asked me out on a date. I knew she was a bit older than I am but…I was a 17 year old guy who had broken up with his girlfriend and wasn’t exactly thinking straight. 

“Things started out normal. Coffee. Movies. Dinners. Sex. All the trappings of normal. Slowly, things started to change a bit. She was growing a bit cooler towards me and at first I thought that it was because we had been seeing each other for a while so things were getting…routine. So I felt the need to step up my game. The maintenance payments from my trust fund were starting to roll in as the insurance money had finally been sorted out from my family’s death. Uncle Peter had helped me get an apartment so I could have somewhere to stay that wasn’t with him and the payments were enough that I could start buying her more stuff to show her I cared.”

He took a drink of the water.

“How much were the maintenance payments?”

“They’re around $2000 bi weekly after adjustments for taxes and education savings. Paid out like that until I’m 25 or graduate from college, university, or a trades school or join the military. Then the remainder of the trust gets paid out.”

“Did Lori know about these details?”

“I had mentioned them to her when she asked after I told her I had an apartment that needed furnishing. I thought she could help me…” Derek looked down at the table.

Stiles felt the blood leave his face. In Derek’s freak out, he’d referred to himself as just a bank account.

“What is the ultimate pay out on your trust fund Derek?” Rafe’s voice was calm, but he had a feeling underneath everything that this was going to lead to a possible reason why Lori was keeping him around.

“Pay out will be low 8 figures. She kept talking about what we could do with that money once it was paid out. Where we could go. What I could buy her. When I told her about the conditions for the pay out though, she got really mad and…”

He took a deep breath.

“She slapped me. Hard. She may not look it, but she’s strong. She immediately apologized, and told me she didn’t mean it. She was just startled and reacted badly.”

Sighing softly, he said barely above a whisper. “Eventually she just stopped apologizing altogether.”

Stiles went still at that thought. He’d grown up, being taught to respect everyone, and treasure each other’s kindness. If you hurt someone, you apologized. If someone hurt you, you addressed it, you didn’t retaliate. An eye for an eye would leave the whole world blind. It was better to just…not be a shit head to everyone. There hadn’t been a war in centuries because of that philosophy. Countries were just traditions at this point. He could not fathom intentionally hurting another person, unless it was self defence. He wasn’t THAT naive.

“It started out infrequently at first, and usually nothing too…severe. She’d started telling me subtly that I was lucky she loved me because no one else would. Or no one else would. She treated me like I was lucky to have her pay any attention to me at all. She picked apart everything I did under the guise she just wanted me to be successful and get ahead in life. She would hit me and beat me under the guise that it was kink play. And she told me I didn’t need a safe word with her because she knew what my limits were.”

Rafe, John, Melissa and Stiles went pale at that admission. It was part of the unwritten agreement that many of them lived up to, especially if there was kink play. A safe word was a statement of consent, and using it held no shame. Sometimes, you just needed to break from the scene, and collect yourself. Being denied one wasn’t seen as proof of compatibility. It was a sign of an abuser trying to legitimize what they were doing.

“It had gotten to the point that all sex was strictly for her pleasure and she would beat me if she thought I had touched myself without her permission. She said I belonged to her and everything I did was only at her say so. I hadn’t had an orgasm for almost 8 months until this morning when it was suggested I might feel more relaxed if I had one.”  
It wasn’t a lie per se, but he wasn’t about to admit on tape that Stiles had told him to jerk off when he was just waking up today. No matter how good it had felt.

“What aren’t you telling us.”

Rafe knew the body language of someone who wanted to get it all out in the open, no matter how ugly the truth was. Looking up at the ceiling, he felt the tears roll down his cheeks. Wiping his face, he took a deep breath.

“She would on occasion use a variety of sex toys, or her hand, and go for dry penetration, telling me I was her dirty little whore who complained too much if he didn’t get to cum. Sometimes I could block it out, and suffer through it until she got it out of her system. Sometimes I would cry out, and she would beat my back with whatever she had on hand. Whip. Riding crop. My lacrosse stick. She used her power cable from her laptop once. The night I was left on the side of the road, she used a bullwhip. A lot. When I was lucky I’d black out and come to after she kicked me out of her apartment.”

Stiles felt his gorge rise. Melissa’s knuckles were white from holding onto her arms so tightly. Her husbands were keeping themselves professional, but she could see they were a little green around the collars. Derek had lived this though. He was forcing his way through the story, the least any of them could do was sit and bear witness to his hell. Tonight, there would be time to grieve for the hell that Derek had lived through. But he was going through it a second time. 

“What lead up to the night you were found…”

Derek glanced back at the window, then became very intent on his finger tips.  
“A little while ago, she had called me over to her place. She’d had a bad day and needed cheering up. That usually meant either doing something degrading to me, or me being forced to do things for her. She’d decided that I would have to…service her. Orally. I wasn’t able to bring her to orgasm so she beat me until my back was bleeding. 

“The next day at school, while I was finishing my notes in Ms. Morrell’s class, I was a bit late leaving, finishing my notes so they would look just so.”

Hesitating for a moment.

“Stiles got up from his desk and bumped into me, making my pen jostle a little bit. That night when she was reviewing my notes she noticed the irregularity in my writing. I’d mentioned that someone had bumped into me. She…she asked who.”

Derek sniffed, doing his best to suppress the tears. Stiles, who was universally accepted as the biggest spaz of Beacon Hills looked like he was going to be sick.

“She took it to mean that I missed having a male lover because I had known Stiles before. Even though we’d never done anything together beyond grab a coffee after therapy when we were younger. That night she…”

He took a deep breath, looking pointedly away from the mirror, but inadvertently looking straight in the camera.

“She forced most of her hand into me. Dry.”

Stiles grabbed the garbage can and proceeded to spew bile and stomach acid into the waste bin. The acrid scent filled the room as Melissa wrapped her arms around the boy who she knew was blaming himself for what had happened to Derek. Stiles’ face was slick with tears, but he couldn’t make a sound. He could barely breathe.

“What happened next.”

It was the Sheriff’s voice this time that filled the silence. It was soft. Caring. Kind. 

“The next night, I went to the school gym to work out and Stiles was there, working out. He’d overloaded a bar and was struggling to pull it back up. I went to pull it off him so he didn’t break his ribs. We touched…briefly. He collapsed to the ground and I panicked. I called the ambulance and…and I ran. I ran all the way to Her.”

There was a heavy silence that filled the room. This was was the night it had happened.

“I told her that I had run into Stiles…had to call an ambulance for him. She accused me of being obsessed with him because I said his name two days in a row.”

His voice dropped to a dull monotone, as though he were shutting off the emotional side of himself. 

“She started by taking out the riding crop and started beating me with the handle, before she switched to the bullwhip. She had kicked me, and punched me, and beat me. She grabbed me by the hair and dragged me to her truck where she kept hitting me with whatever she could find. When I passed out, I thought I was going to die. And I hoped I would. I prayed that I’d just…go.”

Wiping his eyes, he took a few breaths, feeling sick to his stomach.

“I woke up in the hospital, and claimed I didn’t remember what had happened because a part of me…still believed that it was my fault for upsetting her.”

Letting silence fill the room for a moment. Derek continued with giving Lori’s address, and a description of her to help the sketch artist put something together. Lori had flat out refused to have her picture taken, and Derek had obliged. 

Rafe made a few closing remarks for the benefit of the camera, and flicked it off. Turning to John, he pulled his husband into his arms roughly, clinging to him to push the ugliness of Derek’s statement out of his mind. Without thinking, the moved as one and pulled Derek into a group hug. Stiles found himself wrapped in Melissa’s arms, her running her hand across his shaved head, trying to calm the thoughts she knew would be brewing there. Through no fault of his own, Stiles had been linked to Lori’s outbreaks that had caused so much injury to be inflicted on Derek. Feeling as though he were to blame, he cried on her shoulder, the great heaving sobs of someone so overcome with guilt, he didn’t know how he could keep himself sane. 

All of them standing like that, they lost track of time, until Derek reluctantly pulled away from Rafe and John. Looking at the mirror, he ran out of the room and all but knocked down the door. Looking at Stiles’ tear streaked face, Melissa had the sense to get out of the way. Stiles took one look at Derek and hid his face in his hands. Shaking his head, the weeping whine issued forth, in a slew of what was supposed to be words. Crossing the room in two easy strides, Derek pulled his boyfriend to him tightly, holding on with white knuckles.

“I’m sorry Derek. I’m so sorry I made that happen to you. I’m so…how…how can you even look at me knowing what happened. That it was my fault.”

Stiles tried to pull away from the hug and Derek reluctantly let him step back. Wrapping his arms around himself, he sat on his chair, hunched over as though he were going to be sick.

“How can you let me touch you when it’s my fault you got hurt. Oh god. It’s all my fault. It’s…it’s all my fucking fault.”

Derek got to his knees and looked up at Stiles, shaking his head violently. 

“Not your fault. Never your fault. What did you tell me at night in the hospital? Not your fault. You didn’t do this to me.”

Capturing Stiles face in his hands, he pressed a kiss to Stiles’ protesting mouth, swallowing his words and his sobs in one fell swoop.

“You rescued me Stiles. You saved me.”

Wrapping his arms around Stiles’ waist, he buried his face in Stiles’ lap, holding him while their mutual sobbing subsided. Feeling Stiles hands run through his hair, he found himself starting to calm down. He also felt Stiles starting to calm down. After a few minutes had passed, and the cramping had started in his back, he got to his feet, pulled Stiles out of the chair, sat down, and pulled him into his lap. Wrapping himself around his boyfriend, they looked to the door, seeing Melissa, Rafe and John holding each other tightly. 

The crimes he had described…they were among the greatest taboo of their history out there. That their species had even been so callous about each other, it was talk of dark history, and something that had been all but stamped out. Once Stiles had calmed down, the fevered pitch in the room dropped, and everyone was able to think straight again. It was definitely a good thing that Stiles hadn’t been in the room with them during the deposition. His emotional bleed out was almost overwhelming. 

As the adrenaline wore off, Derek got to his feet, cradling the gangly Stilinski in his arms before reluctantly setting him down. Nuzzling Stiles’ neck, he suddenly felt tired, but mysteriously lighter. Like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders he didn’t realize he was carrying. Looping his arm around Stiles, he indicated he was ready to go. Making their way out to the parking lot, the technician had collected the recording, archiving one copy and getting set to make a transcript. Rafe had given the poor technician a heads up that it was going to be ugly, and John had given the tech permission to take a few days off if she needed it. For her part, she looked at the recording she held in her hands and felt vaguely nauseated. For John to proffer something like that…she was not looking forward to her task at hand.

The drive home had been silent. Stiles’ parents in the front seat. Stiles and Derek in the back, but pressed together tightly enough that it was hard to see where one ended and the other began. 

Making their way upstairs, they heard Scott snoring from the other room. Stiles cast a jealous look towards his step brother’s room, to be so unaware of the truth that was revealed at the station. Opening his bedroom door, he and Derek walked in, and Stiles face palmed.

“I forgot to put your bedding in the dryer.:”

Turning around in time to witness Derek pulling his shirt off over his head, Stiles’ mind went deliciously blank. Letting Derek wrap his arms around him, he made no protest in his shirt joining Derek’s on the floor. Nuzzling in close, he smiled softly.

“No sex.”

Derek chuckled.

“No sex,” he agreed. Resting his hands on Stiles’ ass, he did finish removing Stiles’ jeans. Pressing a kiss to his cheek, then jaw, then neck, Derek smiled.

“Thank you, for showing me how to be brave.”

“Hmm?” 

“In the basement. You showed me you were brave enough to keep me safe. And…I trust you to keep doing that.”

Stiles went quiet for a moment. Tugging at Derek’s jeans he nodded.

“I promise I’ll do what I can to keep you safe.”

Derek smiled at that, though looked at Stiles’ with confusion as he found his underwear join his jeans on the floor.

“I thought we said no sex?”

Stiles slid down to his knees, looking up with a devilish smile.

“No sex. Just a sample.”

With no additional words, Stiles gathered Derek in his mouth, and gave him a preview of what he could expect to enjoy.


	16. Interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of fluff after the horrors of the previous chapter.

After a moment where Derek just let the wave of bliss roll over him, he came to his senses, and gently shook his head. Extracting himself, granted it was reluctantly, from Stiles mouth, he lifted Stiles to his feet and shook his head. The willpower required for such an action was intense. Wrapping his arms in such a way that Stiles couldn’t be his sneaky self and go back to what he was doing, Derek just shook his head and sighed.

“Was I doing it wrong?”

Derek let out a bark of a laugh.

“No. Believe me. Definitely and emphatically not. You were doing things so right that I didn’t know they existed.”

Pressing a kiss to Stiles lips, he took some advantage of the access Stiles granted, and plundered his mouth a little. The taste of honey and the outside. 

“Then why…”

“I’d ask the same question. Why did you want to do that for me?”

Stiles looked down and shrugged.

“I…I wanted you to feel good after everything that happened. After what I…”

“You didn’t do it to me Stiles. I said that. And you know I feel that.”

Pulling up his boxer briefs, he sat on the bed, back resting against the headboard. Pulling Stiles down to hold him between his legs and wrap his arms around the slimmer man, he kissed the scar on the back of his head from when he fell in the hospital.

“You don’t have to do anything, or prove anything to me. Now believe me. The 18 year old man in me was more than willing to let you do the magic you were doing. It felt…It felt amazing. But when it happens for us…and believe when I say I want to do all kinds of things with you, maybe a few of them to you with some gentle bondage, I want it to be because we are both in the headspace for it.”

Stiles made a happy noise in the back of his throat. Feeling a blush warm his chest, he rolled over and rested his ear on Derek’s heart.

“I’d like that. I’d like that a lot.”

Derek leaned down and kissed Stiles’ temple. 

“You seriously aren’t going to ask the question?”

Stiles looked up at him with a curious look on his face.

Derek sighed softly.

“About the money? The trust fund?”

Stiles shrugged and shook his head.

“Honestly. It’s none of my business and it’s not my money so…no? No questions to be asked.”

Derek was honestly a little surprised. It was one of the first things Lori had started asking and talking about. Looking at the man in his arms, who was less than subtly rubbing his face on the stubble on his chest with a smile, he felt suddenly very bashful.

“So…your interest in me…”

“Is all in you. I don’t care that you’re rich. You evidently don’t care that I’m not. But I will get annoyed if you don’t let me pay for some of our dates.”

“Not this upcoming one. I asked you out on it so I wanna pay.”

“Which is fine. I’ll get the next one.”

“Deal.”

Chuckling, Derek felt a knot of anxiety relax in his chest. Looking at the clock, he groaned. It was past midnight. Sliding down in the bed so he was resting on the pillow, Stiles arranged himself to be more than half draped over Derek’s wider frame. Running his hands down Stiles back, he felt himself relaxing into the mattress. It was a lot more comfortable lying down without the stitches pulling at his skin. Slowly he slid his hand down the back Stiles underwear, smiling a little at the confused look.

“I thought…”

“Oh we aren’t doing anything tonight sweetheart. But you got to have a mouthful just now and I wanted to see if your ass feels as good as it looks.”

“And?”

“Better.”

Stiles smiled a smug smile, inhaling deeply.

“You smell like leather and sunshine.”

Derek smiled at that.

“You taste like honey.”

Without another word, they let their exhaustion win out, and drifted off to pleasant dreams of what could be, instead of fear over what had been.


	17. Appreciation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short little interlude.

Derek woke up, feeling like he’d slept for years. He was comfortable, and relaxed, even on a ‘too small for two’ bed, with Stiles resting on his chest. Smiling down at the awkward angle he was laying, Derek looked at the clock, rolling his eyes at the fact it was 6:10. He’d had a full sleep with no nightmares for the first time in over a year. Rolling slightly to wrap his arms around Stiles, he simply breathed in his scent. 

Stiles for his part lay with his head on Derek’s chest, and was smacking his lips just slightly.

“Mmmm…”

Derek lifted his head to look into Stiles eyes as he woke up, but was greatly amused at the fact his eyes were still resolutely closed. Stiles, it would appear, talked in his sleep.

“Mmmm…Derek….”

Interesting development.

Stiles gasped slightly and bit his bottom lip, letting out a little whine and a pleading moan.

“There…mmm…Derek…right…oh…mmmm…”

The way that Stiles was writhing on the bedsheet, and his back slightly arching, left Derek with no illusions as to exactly WHAT he was dreaming. 

“More…harder…”

Derek felt himself involuntarily reacting to Stiles moaning.

“You’re beautiful when you…oh Derek…Oh….uhhhh…”

Derek felt himself blushing. It’s like he walked in at the wrong time on someone enjoying a little personal time. But given that he apparently had featured billing in this dream, he pulled Stiles closer, enjoying the heat of the other body, and the fact that ‘Dream Derek’ apparently had some amazing moves. 

Waking up with a jerk, Stiles found himself in quite the state, with his sheets wrapped around his legs, and Derek wrapped around his upper torso. Smiling, he rolled over to look at Derek, pressing a kiss to his lips in that lazy way one did when they were just waking up.

“Good morning Derek.”

“Good morning Stiles.”

“I had good dreams.”

“I heard.”

Stiles blushed a furious red at that, thankful however that it was too dark for Derek to see. Looking down, a little embarrassed, which was odd given the fact he was very open and honest about his sex life and sexual dreams, it felt a little…odd…laying in bed with the person he had been fantasizing about. This was something new to him. 

“It sounded like Dream Derek had a few moves.”

Stiles buried his face in Derek’s chest, revelling in the prickly feel. Pressing his hand to Derek’s heart, he smiled.

“Dream Derek definitely had a few moves. Dream Stiles wasn’t exactly doing too shabby either.”

Derek traced a finger down Stiles side, letting it drift under the covers. Toying with Stiles’ underwear band, he found parts of his boyfriend a bit more awake than others. Derek could sense rather than see the confusion on Stiles’ face at what he was doing.

“No sex. But that doesn’t mean we necessarily have to be celibate either. And from the sounds of things, I may have interrupted the finale by accidentally waking you up. So…I think I owe you an apology.”  
Derek slid his hand into the front of Stiles underwear, smiling at the groan and hip roll Stiles involuntarily gave. Feeling Stiles buck up into his hand, he pressed a kiss to Stiles’ lips as his callused hand slid carefully down Stiles’ shaft, using the ample amount of pre-cum as lubricant. Pulling back just enough to turn on the reading lamp on the top of the headboard, Derek threw off their blankets and finished disrobing Stiles in a few deft movements. Holding himself above Stiles just slightly, he let his eyes wander over Stiles’ body, licking his lips and giving an anticipatory grin.

“You are so sexy.”  
Derek’s voice rumbled low in his chest, causing Stiles’ cock to twitch in response. Grasping him once again, Stiles arched his back, exposing the long line of his throat. Derek swept in and bit lightly along the side of Stiles neck, raising a few marks. 

“I…don’t know how long I’m going to last.”

Derek smiled and shook his head.

“I don’t care. I just want you to enjoy.”

Swiping his hand along Stiles’ length, he all but purred at the pearls of pre-cum that were leaking. Gathering it carefully, he used it to tease Stiles until he was making that begging moaning sound in the back of his throat. Exchanging haste kisses, while carefully jerking off Stiles, Derek moaned hoarsely in Stiles’ ear.

“Cum for me Stiles. Let go and just cum for me.”

Biting Stiles earlobe and moving his hand faster, he sensed Stiles come unhinged and spill out on his chest, splashing Derek with his spunk in the process. Slowing his hand down, he coaxed the last few drops from Stiles, as he twitched on the bed and let out the breath he was holding. Looking down at the mess he had made, he smiled groggily up at Derek who was still hovering over him with a predatory look. Derek shifted his hand to still be rubbing gently around Stiles’ groin, but instinctively avoiding the extremely sensitive areas, Stiles traced a finger down Derek’s chest.

“Dream Derek has nothing on the real thing.”

Smiling, Derek lowered his lips to Stiles, before slowly kissing down his body, using his tongue to slowly and carefully lap up the mess Stiles had made, before gently taking Stiles’ softening member in his mouth, and rolling it around until it was perfectly clean. Stiles looked down at him with a bewildered smile.

“You better be careful Derek. I could get addicted to you.”

Derek smiled his thousand megawatt smile up at him before leaning in to give him a kiss. Stopping halfway, he didn’t want to force a kiss, knowing some people were a bit weirded out by kissing someone who just used their mouth to clean up their jizz. By the way Stiles eagerly plundered his mouth, it would seem that would not be an issue with Stiles.

Letting Stiles gently push him back down onto the mattress, he groaned when Stiles teased his nipple with his teeth.

“Are you sure no sex? After that I just want to feel you buried in me.”

“No sex.”

Stiles gave him a small pout which caused Derek to laugh, but still shook his head.

“Fine.”

Stiles pulled Derek’s underwear off him in a single flourishing pull. Derek laughed as his cock gave a meaty slap against his belly. Laying there, a little self conscious, he let Stiles move his hands away from where he was covering his groin. Stiles’ eyes went a little wide.

“Oh my god. You’re…”

Derek went a little tense.

“…gorgeous. You’re huge. And…”

He looked into Derek’s eyes, and said in a very kind tone.

“…you’re gorgeous.”

Derek blushed and opened his mouth to respond, but his brain momentarily short circuited at the way Stiles grabbed him. Biting his lip to stifle his moan, he let Stiles kiss him.

“I’d…I’d like to you hear you if you want to be loud.”

With no further prompting Derek let out a moan that filled the room. Lori insisted on quiet. Stiles…just wanted him to enjoy himself. Stretching out on the bed, he growled as Stiles bit his nipple while stroking him. 

Giving a full body shudder, he managed to groan out.

“You’re gonna make me cum if you keep doing that.”  
Stiles grinned a mischievous grin.

“That would be the point.”

Moving down between his legs, Stiles smiled while he watched his boyfriend release against his chest. Leaning forward and lapping it up like a cat lapping up cream, he work his way up Derek’s chest, catching every last drop. Smiling as Derek kissed him deeply, and shivering at his taste and Derek’s mingling in their mouths, Stiles smiled at Derek before kissing the tip of his nose.

“You are really beautiful when you cum. Did you know that?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was born because my Hubby pissed me off tonight. LOL. Seriously. More plot in the next update. Needed something happy.


	18. Insights

Derek assimilated into life at the Stilinski-McCall house with a greater degree of ease than he had expected. The nightmares were few and far between, even on the few nights when he slept in his own bed with Stiles across the room. That lasted all of three nights before Stiles found himself waking up in Derek’s bed, the trail of blankets and sheets showing evidence that he’d sleepwalked over to Derek and fell back to sleep draped across the bed like a blanket. Instead of their morning ritual, they’d both agreed that taking apart Stiles’ bed made the most sense, and he’d just move into Derek’s. It was a queen size at least so it allowed both men some extra room. Stiles’ parents weren’t the least bit surprised, and made the arrangements to pull Stiles’ bed out of the room while they were at school and then out for their date.  
School had been school. Classes came and went, and none too quickly. Derek had also been accepted back on the lacrosse team after showcasing to Finstock that he was still top tier material. 

“There’s a couple things I want to pick up from my apartment tonight after the movies if that’s okay? Before we go back to your house.”

“Hmmm?”

“Are you even listening to me?”

“Yep.”

“What did I just say.”

“You want to take me in your apartment.”

Derek opened his mouth to refute that statement but honestly found that he couldn’t. Aside from the utter lack of furniture he had in his place, especially with his bed now occupying Stiles’ room, he was pretty sure they could get creative with the area rugs he had scattered about. 

They’d agreed that tonight was the night, if they were of the mind, to move beyond the casual and loving hand jobs they’d taken to sharing first thing in the morning, with Stiles chomping at the bit to have Derek pressed inside him. Derek himself was still a bit nervous about being penetrated, knowing full well he’d have to work through what Lori had done to him, but Stiles had kissed him and held him while he broke down, reassuring him that he was in no way disappointed, and he would let Derek guide them through that. If he never arrived at that destination, then Stiles was okay with that too.

“Derek. Are YOU listening?”

“Not in the least.”

Behind him he recognized the laughter from Lydia.

“He’s probably just imagining how tight you are Stiles. Though, judging by how Derek carries himself, I’d guess that he’ll find pretty much everything tight. You’re in for a treat though Derek. And orgasm with Stiles is…”

“Intense,” Jackson supplied.

There were a few head nods around their lunch table. Derek ran his hand along Stiles’ thigh, and noticed an interesting effect take hold of their friends. It was as though he were caressing all of them.

“Uhh…Stiles?”

He indicated Lydia and Jackson blissing out while he teased Stiles’ inner thigh.

Stiles, for his part, looked a little sheepish and closed his eyes in concentration. They’d found out that in the early mornings, with their “wake up” call to each other, it jump started the libido of everyone else in the house. It turned out that not only were Stiles and Scott’s parents nude sleepers…they were very very vocal in the mornings. 

Breakfast conversation had been interesting. 

Watching as everyone around the table slowly came down off the bit of a high that Stiles was projecting out, Stiles rested his hand on Derek’s thigh.

“Sorry. I really should be blocking a bit better. It’s just…your hand touches me and I have to reboot my brain. Frequently.”

Derek reluctantly started pulling his hand away, which was curtailed very quickly by Stiles.

“Not complaining.”

Derek chuckled, pressing a chaste kiss to his boyfriend’s lips. Nuzzling his scruffy face against Stiles smooth one, he smiled at the small whimper Stiles let out.

Leaning further forward, he whispered in Stiles’ ear. “Now…imagine that against your cock…”

Stiles face planted into the lunch table, and simultaneously everyone in a 15 foot radius was instantly, and literally, turned on. Stiles was finding the more he was taken by surprise, the less control he seemed to have, and the more people around him were affected. 

“You’re killing me Derek.”

Derek happily took a bite from his apple and kissed Stiles on the cheek before heading out of the cafeteria.

“Not yet. But the day is still young.”

Stiles looked up as Derek walked away.

“As much as I hate to see him leave…I love to watch him walk away.”

Allison and Scott chuckled while Lydia couldn’t help but nod in agreement.

“That’s weird though.”

“Hmm?”

“How he doesn’t seem to be as affected by you as the rest of us are. With that little display, Jackson got as hard as Cantonese trigonometry, and I’m ready to climb the walls. But Derek just gave you that cute little kiss and practically skipped out of the room.”

Stiles shrugged, watching and feeling the people around him starting to calm down. 

“Not sure why. I know that he feels it too, but it’s the same way it was with Mom and Dad and Melissa before Raph moved in. They were aware of how she was feeling but it didn’t influence them as much. Raphael slowly got accustomed to it before she passed away so…it might have something to do with compatibility or exposure. There’s not enough science about people like me to really know because there aren’t that many of us.”

Lydia nodded her head.

“Understandable. Historically speaking people with your Dominant scope and abilities are usually treated with mistrust and in some cases fear because of your ability to manipulate emotions and people’s behaviours. In theory at any rate. Some of the writings I’ve gone through for the paper in Ms. Morrell’s class say that before the Enlightenment, Spiritual Dominants were raised to be used as spies to manipulate rival houses into doing what their Home regions were after. I’d suspect if you really put your mind to it, you could make anyone feel anything you’d want them to.”

Lydia of course was speaking in her very matter of fact way that took all the emotion out of the fact that Stiles could be a total monster if he wanted to be.

“You though Stiles, if you were to do it, I suspect you’d only want everyone to be happy.”

***

Stiles went through the rest of his day with the words Lydia had innocently said echoing through his mind. Was he just projecting his feelings on Derek? Did he even understand what his own feelings were? Derek’s came through loud and clear. No confusion in them when he looked at Stiles, even though everything else made him jumpier than a long tail cat in a room full of rocking chairs. 

At the end of his final class, Stiles tamped down his emotions as tightly as he could, to the point where he couldn’t feel what anyone else was feeling. It was an interesting sensation. But very lonely. Seeking out Derek at his locker, he felt a warm glow inside his chest at the sight of his boyfriend. That was promising. He knew that he was feeling that on his own. But what about Derek. The last thing in the world he wanted to do was manipulate him after everything he’d suffered at the hands of his ex…whatever Lori was. 

Derek hadn’t spotted him yet, but there was a look of anticipation and minor anxiety etched in his face. Stiles frowned, but pressed forward. After a few moments, Derek’s eyes caught Stiles’ and the look of relief filled him, tracing its path from the top of Derek’s head, all the way through his body. Without even a thought Derek had taken the three steps to him and had Stiles folded into his chest. Rapid heartbeat slowing to a more normal pace, Derek breathed a sigh of relief.

“I thought I lost you.”

Stiles looked at him a little confused.

“After lunch I just…I felt something slide away from me and I couldn’t find you.”

Derek pressed a rough kiss to his lips, claiming them as his own.

“I was worried something happened, but when no one was acting any differently or saying something happened…I just…”

Derek took a shuddering breath. Stiles owed him an explanation.

“I was testing myself Derek.”

This time it was Derek’s turn to be confused.

“I’ve learned or rather found out that people like me used to be used to manipulate others to make them do what they wanted. And with everything that happened with Lori I-“

Stiles looked up at the ceiling, feeling pinpricks of tears forming.

“I needed to make sure that I wasn’t accidentally manipulating you into being with me. I needed to make sure I wasn’t a monster.”

Derek didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the simple, yet heavy meaning behind that statement.

“You turkey.”

While not quite the response Stiles was expecting, he let Derek pull him close again.

“What do you feel from me right now.”

Stiles relaxed his control enough that he would be able to feel the person who was holding him. A great warmth radiating from him, which was indicative of either love, deep caring, or bad sea food. 

“What I feel for you is all me Stiles. Having a sense about what you’re feeling helps me know that it isn’t one sided on my part. But at the end of the day, I love you and I know you love me too. So. I propose we go, have dinner at whatever restaurant you want, as long as it has actual menus and real place settings. We catch that double feature, and laugh about how amazing or awful they were. Stop by my apartment so I can grab a couple things Uncle Peter forgot, and then we go back home, where I plan on stripping you naked, and showing you exactly how much I love you.”

Stiles smiled at the itinerary for the rest of the evening. It was one he very much approved of, and truth be told, he’d been looking forward to all week.

“Just promise me one thing?”

“Anything.”

Derek pulled him closer again and whispered in his ear.

“Don’t cut me off like that without warning again.”


	19. Room With A View

Walking out of the movie theatre, Stiles leaned into Derek as they walked towards the parking lot where Stiles’ old reliable Jeep was waiting to whisk them away into the rest of what they had planned for the evening. Looking up at Derek, Stiles couldn’t keep the smile off his face, or the chuckle from peppering his words.

“I can’t believe you got me to watch a baseball movie.”

“I know.”

“I can’t believe you got me to watch THAT baseball movie.”

Derek let out a long suffering sigh. He had a feeling he’d be hearing about this one for a long LONG time. In all fairness…he’d deserve it.

“I know.”

“The guys were at least pretty cute.”

“Can we just-“

“But the movie…”

“Can we just pretend we only saw the first movie? Can we just tell people that we watch The Scorch Trials and that’s it?”

“Not a chance. ‘Everybody Wants Some’ Derek? I mean sure. I’d pay to double team that McReynolds guy with you…or sit back and watch I’m not sure…but oh man.”

“And you were giving me grief about commenting on the guy who played Thomas?”

“But when we’re old and grey and telling our grandkids what we did for our first date, they too will know the shock and horror of knowing we paid money to see that.”

Derek felt a blush rise to his cheeks.

“Grandchildren? You’ve thought that far along?”

Stiles stopped behind his Jeep and wrapped his arms around Derek’s waist. Shrugging, he looked down at his feet.

“Yeah I mean…sometimes. Not in a rush for kids anytime soon I mean…we’re only 18 now but someday if you’d consider it.”

Derek interrupted the flow of consciousness from Stiles’ lips with his own. Grinning like an idiot.

“Some day. Yes. Definitely. But for now, let’s grab my things from the apartment and…I have a surprise for you.”

Stiles grinned like an idiot while he unlocked the vehicle. Sliding into the driver’s seat, he looked over at Derek.

“What kind of surprise?”

“The kind that has us staying at the Four Seasons Beacon Hill penthouse suite for the rest of the weekend with your parents blessing…I hope you aren’t mad.”

Stiles eyes went wide. He knew how much money Derek had available to him. He also knew that his boyfriend was very frugal and cautious as a spender. For him to be spending that kind of money…on that suite…  
“Derek. You didn’t have to. I…I was just planning bumper cars and laser tag for our next date. Four Seasons…”

Derek looked down a bit, a little embarrassed and worried he’d over stepped the mark. Taking a slow breath in, he looked at Stiles, a small part of him expecting Stiles to lose his temper with him. Instead what he saw was a goofy grin, and the same beautiful eyes he’d grown accustomed to waking up to.

“It sound wonderful Derek. It also sounds like room service is a yes, and clothing is definitely optional.”

Derek let out a half choked sob and laugh at Stiles’ comment. He felt a tear roll down each cheek out of sheer relief of Stiles’ reaction.

“And I might start giving you a blow job in the elevator when we get to your building. Just a fair warning.”

Smiling his winning smile, he threw the Jeep into gear, and proceeded to the route on the GPS on his phone.

***

The drive took twice as long as it should have, with the groping hands and the having to pull to the side of the road because they almost got into an accident when Derek popped the buttons on Stiles’ fly and discovered he wasn’t wearing any underwear underneath. Calming themselves down enough to make the rest of the trip in relatively good time and behaviour. When Stiles pulled into the parking garage of what looked like an industrial building, he was a bit confused, but trusted when Derek lead him towards a key controlled elevator. 

After getting in, Stiles found himself in the corner of the elevator hands pinned above his head by Derek’s firm grip, mouth being plundered by Derek and his pressing tongue, with one hand down his pants, rubbing him just enough to get the fires going, but not enough to set him off. Breaking the kiss, he moaned as Derek worked at his neck.

“I thought I said I’d give you the blow job in here.”

He was gasping between words, biting his lip and leaning more into the corner to keep himself upright. Between licks of Stiles neck, Derek all but growled.

“I think I like this better.”

Licking a circle around the hickey he’d raised on Stiles’ pale throat he grinned as Stiles moaned a wanton moan. Nodding his head in a bit of a lazy loll, Stiles gave a half grin.

“You like it when I can’t always touch?”

Derek nodded his head.

“You like to control sometimes.”

“Mmmhmmm.”

“What’s my safe word going to be?”

“Whatever you want it to be.”

“Potato?”

Derek cracked a smile, letting go of Stiles hands.

“What? I mean if you want it to be that then sure but…why potato?”

“When is the last time you heard potato used in a sexual context?”

Derek had to wrack his brain for that one. 

“So if you have me tied up suspended from the ceiling edging me with a cock sleeve and a vibrator with nipple clamps hooked up to a 9 volt battery and you hear me shout, ‘Potato,’ I’m pretty sure the rational part of your brain with click back in and that’ll be the end of the scene.”

Derek merely stood there blinking as the elevator came to a stop at the top floor.

“You’re picturing me tied up right now aren’t you.”

“Well you plant such a vivid image in my head what do you expect me to do.”

Stiles for his part just laughed and let Derek escort him into the apartment. Looking around with a smile, Stiles moved to sit on what looked like the most uncomfortable chair in creation. Looking up stairs to the level where Derek’s bedroom was, he smiled at the retreating back side of his boyfriend. 

“Damn that is one nice view.”

Derek looked over his shoulder with his toothy smile.  
“Be careful you. I might start to develop a swollen head.”

“That’s not all that’s gonna be swollen tonight…”

Derek chuckled as he ran up the stairs.

Stiles for his part got out of the chair that felt like it was made from two cement blocks and covered in cotton, and moved to the window. The massive floor to ceiling window that had to be at least 17 feet high. It was a nice view from up here, though the loft definitely had that ‘used to be a factory’ feeling to it. Not hearing any rustling from up stairs, Stiles padded quietly to the stairs and started to walk up them when Derek called down to him.

“Babe. Can you do me a favour and run down to the Jeep. I…I think I dropped something from my pockets in there that I need.”

Stiles stopped on the stairs and mouthed the word ‘Babe’ with a very confused look on his face. They had a couple cute nicknames for each other, but not ‘Babe.’ That was what Lori called Derek and they both agreed that one was WAY off the table. A shiver ran down his spine and a general feeling of unease settled in his gut.

Taking the last few stairs, Stiles walked through the door.

“Since when do you call me…”

He heard the tell tale sound of a gun cocking and seeing Derek in front of him looking absolutely pale, nervous sweat broke out across his own forehead.  
“Turn. Around. Slowly. Back up towards Derek.”

The voice was undeniably female and hostile. Turning around, he saw a woman, a few years older than them, standing there with a gun trained on his head. Feeling his mouth go dry as he back up to stand beside Derek, he glanced between the two of them. With the wide eyed panic on Derek’s face, and the waves of anxiety that Derek was giving off, this could only be one person.

“Lori I presume?”

Giving him a sneering smile, she nodded her head.

“And you would be Stiles Stilinski. Claudia’s son.”

Nodding his head just slightly, he did not like the suddenly very pleased look on her face. Nor was he too thrilled with his mother’s name coming from her mouth.

“Bad news for you.”

With no other warning, Lori was across the room, and the next thing Stiles felt was pain in the side of the head and the blessed numbness of unconsciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who here thought we'd already seen the last of her? Anyone?


	20. Sacrifice of Angels

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for this chapter include: molestation, assault, some degrees of psychological torture.

“What do you mean there’s no record of Lori Bishop? We’ve got the paperwork from the land lord. Her application form. Copies of the ID. Everything.”

Rafe looked up at his husband, not knowing how to respond.

“We have recent information John. The last 18 months or so. Just before she met Derek she just appeared. No students in the entire county with that name, or that birthday. I’ve put out inquiries in that national databases but they aren’t being too forth coming either. We’ve had a few names ping, but they’re all in their 70’s or 80’s.”

Rafe rubbed his tired eyes, staring at the computer screen. Feeling John move behind him and start rubbing his temples, he slumped in the chair letting out an appreciative moan. They’d been working this almost non-stop since Derek came in and made his statement. Crime was slow in general, so they had nothing but time. They’d picked up nothing from her apartment. Literally. It was empty and the reek of bleach told them that any usable DNA they might have been able to find wouldn’t do them any good. Forensics turned up nothing. 

“Relax. You’re no good if you’re too tense. You miss things and we need to-“

“-get this right. I know. Derek’s a nice kid. And if I know Stiles as well as I think I do, he’s going to be part of the family before we know it.”

John nodded his head in agreement, chuckling a wry chuckle. Giving him a kiss on the temple, he leaned over and wrapped his arms across Rafe’s chest.

“Any luck from facial recognition?”

It was a police sketch but it was a good one. Rafe opened the program that had been running in the background and saw a flashing alert. High probability of a match. Opening it, he felt John’s arms spasm involuntarily. Looking up in concern, Rafe did not like how pale his husband was looking.

“John. What is it?”

“That can’t be.”

There was a photo popped up beside the sketch. They weren’t identical, but there was a very real chance that it was the same person.

“What is it? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

John licked his lips.

“That’s one way to put it. Call Melissa. If this is her…just…call Melissa.”

He slowly backed away from the computer, and Rafe noticed that he checked to make sure his fire arm was present. Clicking into the link associated with the photograph, he felt his face go pale as he started reading through the RAP sheet. Moving through chronologically, there was the unsealed portion of a juvenile record, one entry stood out. Feeling his lips mumble over the words, he felt the tension twist in his gut.

“Age: 15. Charge: Aggravated Assault. Victim: Claudia Stilinski. Arresting Officer: John Stilinski. Hospital Intake Worker: Melissa McCall. Claudia Stilinski found unconscious and unresponsive at scene. Upon regaining consciousness Stilinski reported…”

Reading through the rest of the entry, he moved through it in rapt attention. This was during the period shortly before Claudia got sick, but after Rafe had left from the divorce. Watching John move around the Sheriff’s station, barking orders and getting his deputies moving in one hell of a hurry, Rafe did not want to think of what could happen if this person were to catch up with Stiles. He didn’t want to think about what would happen to Derek if he was SEEN with Stiles, let alone if she found out they were dating.

***

Stiles slowly came to, feeling the side of his head pounding with a dull throb. Reluctantly he opened his eyes, finding himself unable to focus on much around him. Feeling a wave of nausea roll over him, he decided against trying to sit up, though he did inch back from the mess he appeared to be lying in. At some point in his unconsciousness he had managed to throw up. No blood from what he could see so that had to be a good sign…right?

Tugging at his arms, they were bound, but in front of him. He had a little more play than if she’d used a pair of handcuffs, but not much. As the nausea faded he tried pushing up. So far so good. Looking around where he was, it was all filtered through a blur that was trying to resolve into something he could actually see. 

Growling through the bindings, he screwed his eyes shut and opened one, then the other. Left eye was fine. Right eye was the one that was blurry. Reaching up and feeling it, he understood why. The searing pain that radiated to the back of his skull indicated there was definitely a cracked bone in there somewhere and his eye was swollen shut. The goose egg on the side of his head pointed to the thing that rendered him unconscious. 

“Look Babe. He’s awake.”

Stiles heard a muffled yell from just above him and behind. A bed. He was laying against a bed. Turning around, keeping his right eye shut, he almost screamed himself. Doing his best to keep himself calm, if only so Derek wouldn’t fly into a full panic attack, he tried to focus on the person in front of him. He couldn’t help but look over at Derek who was bound and gagged, and he noted, naked. Trying futilely to get away from Lori, Derek was unable to move far. With no further warning, the gun that Lori had trained on Derek was now pointed squarely at his forehead. Feeling a sweat break out across his forehead, Stiles held his hands up in surrender. 

“I yield. I yield.”

Derek for his part was trying to spit the gag out, but was twisting to get out of Lori’s grasp. As she ran her hand down his body, she lingered around his groin that was resolutely soft. Stiles felt tears prick at his eyes, and saw them mirrored in Derek’s own. After weeks of progress being made, they were face to face with the monster that Derek had almost been killed by, and she was molesting him as though she were giving him loving caresses. 

“I have to say Stilinski. You did a good job fixing my boy here. I was almost worried that he didn’t survive his discipline but here he is. Hearty and Hale.”  
She giggled a little at what she thought was the wittiest statement of the week.

“Babe if you keep trying to move away from me I’m going to have to do something to Stiles that you aren’t going to like. I know how important he seems to you…this silly little fling…but remember I’m the one you love.”

Stiles could sense the fear and revulsion rolling off Derek in waves. Doing his best to absorb what he could so Derek could at least start thinking rationally again. Physical contact always worked better, but he’d been around Derek enough that it wasn’t always needed for taking the edge off. Seeing Derek’s breath slow down, and the frantic pace of his pulse in his neck reduced to a more manageable level, Stiles relaxed a little bit.  
“What do you want?”

“I think you just proved it.”

“What?”

“Derek isn’t panicking any more.”

Lori’s voice shifted to a very clinical tone.

“But you look like you’re about to have an anxiety attack. If I don’t miss my guess…you just swallowed his fear. Or some of it.”

Stiles shifted uncomfortably as Lori slid off the bed, but the gun didn’t waver in the slightest. Eyes focused on Stiles, she all but ignored Derek on the bed now. 

“Not even your mother could do that Stiles. Not that it would have mattered. She said she couldn’t help me. But I know…I know she was lying.”

“My mother never lied to anyone.”

“Do you know how long it took me to figure out how to get to you?”

Stiles looked over at Derek, who was looking just as shocked as he was feeling. They were both staring at her with an incredulous look.

“See. I’d heard that the Sheriff’s kid had scored Spiritually Dominant and was showing some of the same traits his bitch of a mother had. But imagine my surprise when I heard the rumours that you were even more than she was.”

Sparing a look at Derek, she sneered.

“All it took was finding someone worthless to take under my wing and finding something that would pique your interest. Derek was a convenient means to an end. Great lay when I felt like it.”

Turning the gun towards Derek, she shrugged.

“And a useful tool for the most part. What I wasn’t expecting was him going to the cops. I thought I’d taken that out of him a long time ago. Oh well. Time’s up Babe. You’ve served your purpose, now it’s time to send you back to Mommy.”

Stiles moved between Derek and the gun. Focussing on Lori, he found he wasn’t able to sense her the same way he could pretty much everyone else. Seeing her smirk broaden, she laughed in his face.

“You don’t hurt him.”

“You can’t make me not. As I’m sure you’ve just figured out.”

Stiles sagged a little. He’s always picked up everyone…effortlessly. He knew if he focussed hard enough he could getting the nuances of how they were feeling, what their compatibilities would be like, and as Lydia mentioned, some degree of manipulation. But a lot of it was accidental. With Lori it was like he was staring at a blank wall for all it was worth.”

“But fine. He’ll be the perfect incentive to get you to do what I want.”

“And that is?”

“Take It from me.”

Stiles looked confused.

“That last nagging shred of that voice out of the back of my head that is keeping me from my full potential.”

Stiles started to look a little green and was putting 2 and 2 together. The result he was coming closer to was 4.

“You want me to take out your conscience.”

His voice was a whisper, but the weight of the words fell like lead. She was like him. Capable of picking up and to a smaller degree manipulating people’s emotions. But there were limits on what they could do. If he did this, there was absolutely nothing stopping her from doing whatever her twisted mind could comprehend. She’d lured Derek into a relationship, for the sole purpose of manipulating him to get to Stiles. And that was with some semblance of a conscience.

Sitting on the bed beside Derek, he rested a comforting hand on his boyfriend’s shoulder. Blocking himself to Lori’s senses, he started drawing out the fear that Derek was feeling just being faced with her. Running a soothing hand on Derek’s shoulder, he reluctantly started to nod his head.

“On your word that Derek walks out of here unharmed.”

“You know that won’t matter if you do this.”

“That’s why you let him out now. Give him a head start. I’ll even stand in the corner while you untie him and let him leave.”

Derek looked up at Stiles, shaking his head furiously. With tears in his eyes, Stiles leaned over and kissed Derek’s temple, whispering softly in his ear. Derek stiffened and nodded his head, reluctantly allowing Lori to dress him before cutting him free.

“Derek. I love you.”  
Lori just laughed, pushing Derek out before he could say anything. Stiles leaned in the corner of the loft bedroom, eyes closed as he heard Derek run down the stairs, and the door to the apartment open, then close. Opening his eyes, Stiles had a darker look to him.

“You’re making the right choice Stiles. Too long our society has held people like us down. We should be the rulers. We are the apex of our evolution. Perfect marriage of mind, body and soul. We look into their hearts and can make them beat faster. But imagine if we could control them all? Imagine what we could do.”

Stiles took a few steps forward. Now that Derek was gone, she’d dropped her shielding and Stiles could feel the overwhelming need to have him reach into her mind and scoop out what she didn’t want. 

“Oh. I have some ideas.”

With no warning, Stiles suddenly free hands were holding her head in a vice like grip. Lori barely had time to register her shock when she started to feel a cold sensation form in the pit of her stomach and start to spread out. Looking up into Stiles’ eyes, she raised the gun.

***

Derek made it to the bottom of the stairs to his bedroom and ran to the apartment door. Opening it and slamming it shut, Derek started looking around the apartment as quietly as he could to find a weapon. 

Pulling out a bread knife, it was the best he could find. Grabbing the cordless phone he hastily dialled 911.

“911. What’s your emergency?”

“I need a cop car to…”

All of a sudden, the sound of a single gun shot echoed through the apartment. Dropping the phone, he left the line open so they could run a trace, grateful for the first time that Peter had insisted on a land line. Breaking the bedroom door open, he looked around he room. Lori and Stiles were laying on the ground, gun still in Lori’s hand, and blood slick on the floor. 

“No no no no no no. Stiles. STILES!!!”

Derek ignored Lori, whose mouth was opening and closing like a fish out of water, and went straight to Stiles who had a large wet red stain rapidly growing along his upper right chest. Putting pressure on it, he could see that Stiles’ eyes were wide open, but not seeing anything. Looking at Lori, her eyes were fixed in very much a similar state. 

Looking out the window, he saw the first of the police cars show up, but couldn’t make out who it was. Hearing his door splinter open after an interminable amount of time he called out weakly.

“Up here. We’re up here. He’s been shot. Please…please…he’s been shot. Please.”

Derek looked down into Stiles unseeing eyes, more afraid now than he had ever been in his life.


	21. Coming Around

If you were to ask Derek for the details of the trip from his apartment to the hospital, he’d only be able to give you bits and pieces. He remembered Deputy Parrish running into the room with his gun drawn, holstering it to handcuff ‘Lori’ and turn his attention to Stiles and Derek. He remembered them closing the ambulance doors with him in the back holding Stiles’ hand as they put the monitors on him. He could tell you in vivid detail the look on Uncle Peter’s face when they had to forcefully separate him and Stiles so they could wheel the young man in to surgery, and he remembered waking up, curled at an uncomfortable angle in the chair in Stiles room after he’d come out of surgery. 

Somehow he was showered and dressed in clean clothes, but the fugue states had worn off. The stuff that happened during his blackouts was slowly coming back to him, and the sheer exhaustion weighing on him was starting to take it’s toll. Looking at the stretcher that had been shoved against the side of the room, Melissa was curled up asleep, John somehow squeezed on there with her, and Rafe sitting like a sentinel in a chair at the foot of the bed. Scott and Allison were curled up on the couch. Peter had even found a pillow and propped himself into the window seat to catch a few winks of sleep. Watching the monitor that showed Stiles’ heart beat, it was beating at a health rhythm. The bullet, he remembered them saying, somehow missed everything vital, thought it did clip Stiles’ right lung. Not enough to collapse it, but they’d had to do a little repair work. His EEG scans were showing his mind was in a state of hyper stimulation and the various other brain scans they took all agreed. He was conscious, but there was so much going on in his head that he wasn’t responsive. Everything was blending together and therefore too much to process out.

Shifting in his seat, Melissa’s eyes darted open and looked at Stiles. Catching Derek’s eyes, she gave him a small smile. Trying his best to return it, he felt the tears spring to his eyes. Indicating he’d be right back, he bolted to the door to the hallway, almost bowling over Deputy Parrish who was standing guard outside. Hearing the door open and close behind him, Derek walked to the end of the hall where there was a quiet, out of the way waiting area. He’d spent enough time in here with Stiles that he knew the good places to sit and hide. there was someone from the room following him, but he didn’t care. He wanted to be alone, but was terrified at the prospect at the same time.

“You can’t blame yourself.”

Peter. Great. 

“Who said I was.”

“I know you Derek. And even if you don’t remember talking to me and the police I remember every word you said. She was using you, to get to Stiles, and probably going for your bank account too.”

“If it weren’t for me…”

“She would have found another way.”

“But…”

“Or she would have gone after him directly. There is no ideal scenario to this, Nephew, but knowing that boy the way you do now. How do you think that would have ended.”

“Stiles would be dead. I’d be fine. But Stiles…”

He couldn’t finish that sentence again. He couldn’t bear to think about that sentence again. He would hate her until his dying day for what she did to him, but he also was relieve that Stiles was spared that same fate. 

“What’s troubling you Derek. What’s wrong.”

Derek took a seat, elbows on his knees, head cradled in hands.

“I love him.”

“I know that. Generally, that isn’t something to trouble you.”

“Before Lori cut me free…she let him whisper something to me.”

“What did he say?”

“He said, ‘I’m sorry for hurting you.’ Then she cut me free. I ran, and fake leaving the apartment. Call the police and…”

“…and Stiles got shot before you could do anything.”

Derek nodded.

“If I’d been a bit faster-“

“She could have killed you.”

“But.”

“NO!”

Peter all but screamed that in Derek’s face. His voice echoed down the hallway, leaving Parrish looking their way, more than a little startled with his hand on his gun. Peter held up his hand to say everything was alright. Parrish nodded his head and stood back at attention. 

For the first time in a long time, Derek saw honest to god tears on Peter’s face. His mask of aloofness was utterly gone. Sitting and slumping in his chair, he sat forward aggressively, pointing at Derek.

“She could have killed you. And that isn’t acceptable to me. When the house burned down, you didn’t just lose your family Der. I did too. I lost my sisters. My brothers. My wife. My kids. By the grace of fucking god Laura, you and Cora were spared. Then Laura got in that car accident. We lost her. Cora lives on the other side of the goddamn world. You’re all I’ve got baby boy and I am sorry. I am sorry your boyfriend is hurt, but I am not sorry that I am relieved that it wasn’t you.”

Derek sat back, a little shocked at Peter’s outburst. Largely, he, Peter and Cora were all they each had.

“Stiles is a good man Peter.”

“I know he is. His parents have been talking a lot about him since you two started getting serious.”

“You’d like him.”

Peter nodded his head.

“If he’s half the things you and his parents say he is, I’m sure I will.”

Derek chewed idly on his thumb nail looking at his Uncle.

“How did you know?”

“Know what?”

“You and Aunt Siobhan? How did you know she was the one?”

Peter smiled faintly at the memory of his fiery haired late wife.

“We weren’t much older than you and Stiles are. Actually I think we were about the same age. I can’t put my finger on it Baby Boy. But when she entered the room, it was like there was no one else there. Tunnel vision. My heart pounding just…waiting for her to say hi so I could breathe again. She was kind. Passionate.”

“She was beautiful.”

“She was stunning.”

“Uncle Peter?”

“Yes Baby Boy.”

“Are you happy?”

Peter looked at his hands and shrugged.

“I’m content Derek. I have found someone who loves me, and who I love back. He isn’t a replacement for Siobhan or the girls. No one could ever do that. But…he’s given me a piece back I thought I’d lost in the fire.”

Derek smiled and nodded.

“I love him Peter.”

“I know you do Derek.”

Getting to his feet, he stiffened up as Peter pulled him into a tight embrace.

“It seems you’re getting some family back.”

Derek nodded his head, starting to walk back towards his boyfriend’s hospital room.

“Not yet. Not officially. But soon. And Peter?”

“Yes?”

“Get rid of that fucking apartment. I never want to step foot in there again.”

“The minute the investigation is done I’m selling the whole goddamn building.”

It didn’t shock him in the least that Peter owned the complex. The Hales were quite well off, and Peter’s specialty was real estate

Walking back into the room, Derek and Peter curled up in their respective spots, letting the heaviness of sleep claim them once more.

***

The first order of business once it was daylight hours was getting Stiles into a private room. His insurance through his parents only covered semi-private, but Peter set down one of the black cards from his wallet and wouldn’t broker any discussion to the contrary. He was paying for Stiles to be able to have the largest private room the hospital had.

“If the Pope were visiting and needed a room to stay in, THAT is the room that you put Stiles in.”

When asked why the generosity, he merely shook his head.

“Because. My nephews deserve nothing but the best that I can offer. I just happen to have a tonne of money that can be thrown at this particular problem.”

No one, save Derek, caught the plural on the word. Instead, the billing department put the card on file and started charging the difference to it. All the other tests and surgery were covered by their health care program. From the look of the other cards in his wallet, Peter wouldn’t miss the one he was leaving behind. 

Stiles was taken for follow up testing, and in the meantime they set up the new room which was large enough to bring in a couple cots, and the couch was a pull out. To the side they were able to set up a table which had some files opened on it. On one of them was the sketch the police made from Derek’s description.

“Jennifer Blake.”  
Derek looked up from the file folders, seeing John walk in with two cups of coffee. Handing one over to Derek, he accepted it with a nod.

“A little bit of plastic surgery, but Jennifer Blake is her real name. She’s got a RAP sheet longer than I have the budget for paper to print out. Assault. Drugs. Intimidation. Rape. She assaulted my wife and left her unconscious when she was 15 years old. When Claudia came to, she said something about Jennifer wanting her to take away the voice that was telling her not to do things.”

“Her conscience.”

“No history of mental illness. She’s just a sociopath. Which is very rare, but they do crop up. Spiritually Dominant but a jumble of everything else. Nothing in her background profile lends itself to anything like this. She just…got it in her head that she, and people like her, should be in charge, but had to be able to control us to do it. The fact it got you hurt and Stiles sh..”

John paused for a moment.

“Got Stiles shot…she got off lucky is all I’m saying.”

Derek flicked through the file, feeling a chill deep inside. 

“What happened to her? When I went upstairs she was just lying there struggling to breathe.”

John shrugged his shoulders.

“We don’t know. She’s unconscious but expected to come to any day now. Which unfortunately is more than we can say about Stiles at the moment. Physically he’s pretty much fine. We won’t know if there’s any other issues from the gunshot wound until he comes to. Obviously he’ll have to do physio and rehab. But beyond that. We just don’t know.”

Derek hesitantly placed his hand on John’s shoulder. He was in a world of hurt because his boyfriend was incapacitated. But this was John’s son, and the only living reminder he had of his late wife. The fact he was also the person you could count on to go out of his way to take care of everyone expecting nothing in return just compounded the issue. 

“I’m going to ask him to marry me.”

John looked over at Derek. A half dozen things sprang to his mind at those words, but bit them back. He’d been barely older than Derek and Stiles when he’s proposed to Claudia. Letting the thought percolate in the back of his mind for a moment or two, he merely nodded his head.

“Please get a hotel when you’re celebrating. The house is small enough and the last time the two of you got excited I wasn’t able to walk right for the rest of the day.”

Derek chuckled.

“Don’t get me wrong. I’m not complaining. But I’m no spring chicken either.”

To that, Derek laughed.

***

The days lead into weeks as they so often did. Derek’s friends were bringing by their homework for him to work on in Stiles’ room. Theirs teachers were also solicitous enough to stop by the hospital room to administer the few tests that he would have otherwise missed. Miraculously, in the time they’d been in the hospital before, Stiles had completed almost all the work for the semester. Ironically, he wasn’t too far behind in their classes, even though he was laying there, largely unresponsive.

His last set of scans had shown that the overload he was experiencing was starting to taper off. There was no predictable rate of decline to bring him back to normal but he was starting to respond to some stimuli. His pupil response had returned, and when they ran things along his feet, there was a reaction if it was extreme enough. 

Derek could still feel him in the back of his mind, but it was more akin to ‘white noise’ than a definable sensation. Reading to him from the text book that Stiles’ mother wrote, Stiles seemed to calm down, even though there was nothing to indicate it. Just a feeling he got.

“The Spiritually Dominant, it was said, was sought out in times of change to guide their villages through to the next step in their society. Not one to be ruled by cold logic, nor one to rule by brute force, they allowed their mind to be swayed by their hearts. Looking at situations and finding the best possible solutions. While not always perfect, as we are all just humans after all, it mitigated disasters with the fewest possible casualties.”

Derek closed the book and looked at the sleeping face of Stiles.

“Yeah you definitely did that didn’t you. Step between me and the gun, get me out of there, and still take the bullet.”  
Derek looked up at the ceiling, blinking back the tears that were threatening to come.

“You did something didn’t you. Something to ‘mitigate the disaster’ with the fewest possible casualties. But didn’t really stop to think about the ones you’d leave to pick up the pieces.”

Wiping his eyes, Derek went to Stiles’ bed.

“I’m not like you Stiles. I don’t know if I’m not smart enough, or if I’m just…to damn dumb to see it, but I don’t know what you just didn’t…why you couldn’t just…”

Taking Stiles’ hand in his, he squeezed, hoping he could just…will Stiles back to a state of consciousness that would either let him yell at him and not feel as guilty, or kiss him so hard they didn’t leave the bed for several hours. 

“If you’re in there Stiles. Come home. Come back to me.”

Pressing a kiss to Stiles’ forehead, he sighed.

“I’ve gotten rid of the apartment. And your parents are letting me move in. If you want me to stay in a different room I can do that. I’ll cook. Clean. Do dishes. I’ll do the damn windows if you just…wake up Stiles.”

Closing his eyes, letting his frustrated tears roll off his face and land on Stiles.

“Wake up. Just wake up Stiles. Get up because…”

He sighed, pinching his eyes shut.

“Stiles. You’re hurting me.”

Letting out the sob he was holding in, he all but fell to his knees beside the bed. Squeezing his Stiles’ hand, he started to loosen his grasp. He was about to pull away from Stiles when he found his hand in a vice like grip.

“I’m…..sorry…”

Stiles voice had the sound quality of bricks in a blender. His voice was hoarse, and it was weak, but it was there.

“Stiles?”

Derek looked at his boyfriend’s pale face, shocked to see his eyes opened. Smiling broadly despite himself, he hit the call button, not trusting his voice.

“I’m…sorry…”

Pressing a kiss to Stiles lips, Derek just shook his head.

“Don’t…just…don’t.”

Grabbing the water cup with the straw, he brought it over so Stiles could take a few small sips. 

“What happened Stiles. Where were you?”

Stiles laid back in the pillows, blinking up at the ceiling, ignoring the sound of Melissa blowing through the door.

“Hell. I was in hell.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won't be tagging Jennifer in the character tags because I don't really want to give it away off the bat on who Lori is. I think there may be one or two more chapters left in this particular tale. We shall find out.


	22. Moving Past This

From the time Stiles was admitted, to the time he was discharged, he had spent a total of 6 weeks in the hospital this time around. Derek had spent 6 weeks less 2 days with him. The two days he was absent was to help Peter pack up the rest of his apartment, studiously ignoring his bedroom, make a few statements at the station, and give his witness statement again for the court proceedings against Jennifer, should she regain consciousness. Once the DNA came back conclusive, there was a back log of evidence that hadn’t yet been sunk by a statute of limitations, and she was going to be sent to a detention facility for a good long stint. Stiles for his part expressed a fair amount of shock at discovering Lori’s identity. He’d been just a little kid when she and Claudia crossed paths, but even he remembered how badly hurt his mom had been.

Stiles’ discharge was a pretty quiet affair, though the staff at the hospital was happy to see him leaving, they admitted it was going to be a bit too quiet without him there to keep things lively. He’d be coming back for physiotherapy a couple times a week to reverse the small amount of atrophy he’d suffered, and deal with some of the muscle damage that came from having a bullet rip through his body. 

He was slender before all of this. Wiry muscle, and virtually no body fat despite how he ate. Now he was gaunt, pale, and had lost some of his muscle tone. The dark circles under his eyes told the story that he’d actually spent the time in his coma in a hyper alert state. He didn’t sleep. Now, all he wanted to do was nap and sleep and curl himself around Derek and never let him go. 

His first night of actual sleep had been plagued by nightmares, memories of what Jennifer had done. Not just to him and to Derek, but impressions he had picked up from her. He’d been restless all night, but fell back to sleep quickly as Derek draped an arm over his hip and mumbled sweet nothings in his sleep. In some cases, literally. He’d listed off the recipe for something that sounded like a delicious lemon tart. When asked about it apparently it was the favourite dessert of his mother and he’d memorized the recipe when he was barely tall enough to reach the counter. 

It didn’t take Stiles long to be called down to the Sheriff’s office to go on record as to what had happened in Derek’s apartment.   
Sitting across the table from Deputy Parrish, he declined having anyone in the room with him. He knew his parents were on the other side of the glass with Derek, in a situation that was vaguely reminiscent of three months ago when Derek was sitting in the same chair. He was starting to look healthier. His colouring had returned and he was starting to put on a little weight, and some muscle.

“Stiles. After Derek had left the room and run downstairs, can you tell me what happened? How did it get to the point that Jennifer shot you in the chest.”

Parrish was trying to be as polite as he could. This was the bosses’ kid, and he’d been a fixture in this station since he was a baby. Everyone knew Stiles and watched out for him in equal parts like he was a son or a little brother. 

“Before Derek left, when I kissed him, I drew out the last of his fear of Jennifer, and the terror the visited on him. After Derek left the room and I’d heard the apartment door slam shut, I got out of the bindings she put on me the way you taught me. Dislocate my thumb, pull, and put it back in before she noticed what happened. When she got close enough to me, I grabbed her head and poured every last ounce of everything I’ve ever felt from Derek back in to her. I made her feel the fear and terror she brought in to his life and I compressed it all to hit in one fell swoop.”

Stiles looked at his hands.

Derek looked bewildered. He’d chalked up the lack of fear to the pulsing adrenaline. Even now though, she didn’t possess the same power over him she used to. He felt revulsion at what she did…but he wasn’t jumping at shadows anymore either.

“You had to know that would hurt you.”

“I fully expected it to kill me Deputy Parrish.”

Stiles was very casual about saying that. In his mind, it was the most efficient way to make sure Jennifer never invited that on anyone else ever again. Derek would be safe. He’d be angry and hurt that Stiles was dead. But at least he would be safe. 

Derek felt his fists clench. Melissa took his hands in hers, giving him that sad matronly smile she seemed to possess. Shaking his head, he turn his attention back at the glass. Seeing Parrish’s colouring change, he could tell the Deputy wanted to read Stiles the riot act at that. But he stayed professional. That would be saved for later. Off the record.

“Jennifer is like me. She can, at will, manipulate emotions. It’s harder to do that to her. I dumped absolutely everything I had into her hoping to overload her so you could arrest her. She’d been able to fight back for long enough to raise the gun but before she could aim at my head, I pulled her in close enough that she shot me where she shot me. The abrupt severing of the connection I’d made made me drop to the floor, and I have some recollection of her collapsing in her overload as well.”

“What happened when you grabbed her head. You were overheard telling Derek that you felt like you had landed in Hell while you were in your…altered state.”

Stiles nodded his head.

“I saw into her mind. What her plan was. Her goals. What she’d done. The sheer delight she took in making people afraid of her. How everything about her flies in the face of everything we are taught in how to act and treat people. It was terrifying, that people can honestly think and feel like that.”

Parrish made a few more notes and closed his notebook.  
“Thank you Stiles. This has been most helpful.”

Parrish picked up the remote and turned off the camera. Levelling his gaze at Stiles, he said in a voice that was choked with emotion.

“But if you ever do something so stupidly heroic like that again I swear I will beat you up like we are in grade school.”

Okay. Maybe Parrish wasn’t going to be able to wait until they were in a less public place.  
“I mean…Stiles. Just…”

“I know Jordan. I’ll be careful.”

Jordan, seemingly mollified, looked at the mirror, almost directly at Derek.

“And you. You better take care of him.”

Getting to his feet, Jordan left the room, baffled at the flurry of activity in the hallway. Grabbing another deputy that ran by, she whispered hastily in his ear.

Turning around, Parrish walked back into the interview room.

“Jennifer Blake escaped from the hospital. It looks like she woke up, knocked out a deputy, took their keys and left. The cruiser was just found at an abandoned lot, with no sign of her.”

Looking at Stiles, he said in a disgusted voice.

“She’s vanished.”

***

Stiles had a lingering feeling that Jennifer wasn’t about to come remotely close to him, or anyone else in Beacon Hills to be very honest. As much as he tried to ignore it, he still felt a whisper of her in the back of his mind. He could block it out very easily, but it was still there. 

Rafe and John were at work trying to run down leads. Melissa was on night shift. Scott and Allison were at her place. They had the house to themselves.Lounging on the chesterfield, pinned between Derek’s legs, with his arms wrapped around his chest, he was relaxed and content, drifting between watching the movie, and dozing off. 

He insisted he wasn’t tired, knowing full well that Derek would stop the movie he really wanted to watch, and join him in bed. All but purring in his content state, Stiles rolled over slightly and slid his hand up Derek’s shirt, smiling at the fact his chest hair had come back completely, he played with the curls. Feeling Derek lurch a little, his eyes were wide open.

“Ticklish.”

Stiles grinned a bit, behind careful to not tickle him too much. Pressing a kiss to Derek’s chest, he looked up into his eyes.

“I love you.”

“I love you too Stiles.”

Tilting his head up, he kissed Derek lazily before turning his attention back to the movie. They’d both wanted to see this film, but had been stuck in the hospital the first time when it came out. So far, even though his fatigue was winning out, it was worth the wait. 

“Is it okay if I…touch you…”

Derek looked down with a small smile and nodded.

“You don’t have to always ask my permission Stiles. There is a world of difference between you touching every piece of me, and Her touching any part of me. You make me think and feel and emphatic yes.”

Taking Stiles’ hand and placing it on his crotch to emphasize his point. Trying to focus more on the movie, he found it rather difficult to do with Stiles laying there, getting rather creative with his long fingers and Derek’s fly. Stiles’ right arm was still largely out of commission. It definitely needed more physio. But he was proving adept at adapting. Hitting pause on the movie, Derek lifted his hips to facilitate Stiles pulling his pants off, before grasping at Derek’s length.

“God I forgot how thick you are. I bet it would feel great in me.”

Derek had the good nature to blush. Compliments were still foreign territory for him to be receiving. 

Stiles ran his hand carefully and reverently along his entire length, giving a gentle swirl when he reached the tip. Derek bit his lip and gasped at the sensation.

“Stiles…”

“Hmmm…”

“What are you up to?”

“Nothing Der…”

Moving to lay on top of Derek, he kissed his boyfriend soundly. Derek, without thinking, ran his hands down Stiles back, the thought not entirely escaping him that Stiles was still dangerously thing. Letting his hands slip under the waist band of Stiles’ lounge pants, Derek broke the kiss.

“Is that a plug?”

Stiles nodded his head.

“What are you planning?”

“I wanted to be ready Der.”

“Ready for what?”

Derek’s tone was calm and caring, but there was more than a hint of desire there. Anticipation. Nipping at Stiles chin, he watched as Stiles pulled back, as though looking to gauge his reaction.

Stiles for his part looked a little shy, which was completely out of character for him.

“I wanted to be ready so we could skip the warm up so we could get to making love.”

Derek grinned a little.

“What if I like the warm up.”

Stiles chuckled a little.

“I love the warm up Der. I do. But…I want to feel you moving inside of me. We were supposed to be able to make love the night I got shot. I’m done waiting and I hope you don’t think less of me for saying this, but I want you and I need you in me.”

“Stiles.”

“Yes Derek.”

“I want to make love to you. But…not on your parents’ couch.”

Stiles snickered and nodded. There was, he knew from experience, likely a spring digging into Derek’s ass. Letting out a whoop as Derek stood up from the couch, scooping Stiles in his arms, he pressed a kiss that was more than what their previous kisses had been before. Stiles felt his bones turn to mush. Letting himself be carried upstairs, Derek opened the door to their room, that had been transformed with the use of battery operated tea lights, and bouquets of Stiles favourite flowers. Stiles mouth opened in slight shock. 

“I want to make love to you in our room instead.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short update. Early shift at work tomorrow. Next chapter is probably going to largely be smut.


	23. Unity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is pretty much just smut. 
> 
> I should also mention writing smut isn't my forte. Hope you enjoy!

“When did you have time for all this?”

Derek shrugged.

“When I got up to ‘check on the popcorn.’ When did you have time to…”

“When I got up to ‘see if there was soda in the basement.’”

The both chuckled between kisses, as they made short work of each other’s remaining garments. Derek lifted Stiles to straddle his hips, lowering them gently to the bed. Running his hands up Stiles sides ending with pushing his arms above his head, he interlaced his fingers with Stiles’ humming into the kisses he was being offered. Pressing their mutual desires between them, he growled low as Stiles found himself in the channel of his abs, grinding against his chest.

Leaning back, Derek smiled at the innocent desire on Stiles face, knowing beyond the shadow of a doubt that he was wearing a similar expression. They were both eager for this, as was evidenced by their dripping pre-cum, but there was something innocent in their desire for each other that went beyond simple physical enjoyment.

“You are beautiful Stiles.”

Enjoying how the blush spread down Stiles’ chest, he leaned over and pressed a demanding kiss to Stiles’ lips. Reaching down between them, he gave the plug a firm jiggle, grinning a wolfish grin at the way Stiles arched his back and moaned. Licking down his chest, Derek took Stiles length in his mouth in one smooth movement, moving as Stiles bucked at suddenly being deep throated. Bobbing his head until he heard Stiles hiss for him to stop, he pulled back, letting the head fall heavily back onto Stiles’ stomach. Seeing Stiles’ hands knotted up in the bedding, a bead of sweat running down his forehead, Derek couldn’t help but smile.

“I take it you enjoyed that?”

His voice was throaty with desire. Watching as Stiles could barely put together the thought to nod his head, Derek took that as quite the compliment.

“That would be an understatement.”

Derek snickered and nodded, pressing kisses to Stiles sensitive inner thighs, alternating between licks, kisses and nibbles. Stiles for his part writhed on the bed, not even trying to silence his moans. Running his fingers through Derek’s hair, he whimpered as Derek first took one of his balls in his mouth, then the other. Trying his best to not move much because of the teeth situation, Stiles screamed out as he almost tipped over the edge from Derek’s tender ministrations. Derek pulled back, the look on his face rather primal, but he was still being very attentive to Stiles cues. 

“You’re going to be my undoing Der.”

“I must be doing something wrong…”

Stiles sat up with a concerned look on his face that Derek was going to regress to something negative.

“Why’s that?”

“You can still form words.”

Giving him a devilish grin, Derek turned the plug, watching with delight as Stiles again arched against the bed. This time, a pulse of heat seemed to roll through the room, causing Derek to feel the pleasure that Stiles was feeling. 

“What was that?” he asked in awe.

“Sometimes…when I’m really into it, and feeling really safe. Sometimes I just…can’t control myself and it literally rolls off in waves of heat.”

This time it was Derek’s turn to blush. Looking almost bashful, Stiles sat the rest of the way up and captured Derek’s lips with his own.

“Hey. Talk to me.”

“I make you feel safe?”

Stiles nodded his head, wrapping his arms around Derek’s neck. His right arm was very stiff for obvious reasons, but it didn’t hurt as much anymore.

“You make me feel safer than anything ever could.”

Guiding Derek to lay down on the bed, Stiles started whispering kisses across his forehead and slowly down his body, taking the time to enjoy the feeling of Derek’s chest hair running coarse against his eager mouth and tongue. Gently teasing one nipple, then the other, Derek let out an appreciative gasp at the slight bite he offered each one. Loving the way Derek’s muscles moved under his hands, he gave an appreciative moan at how Derek stretched out on the bed. Moving between Derek’s legs, he kissed Derek’s inner thighs, nibbling and scraping his teeth against the sensitive area. Being ever mindful of Derek’s triggers, he didn’t venture too far back. 

Gently working his way up, Stiles slowly and methodically worked his way down Derek’s length. Length wise, they were about equal, but Derek had an extra bit of girth that Stiles had to relax his throat to accommodate. Looking up, he felt Derek’s eyes on him as he took the impressive size down to the base. Bobbing his head slowly at first, he worked up a bit of speed, taking him down in one fell swoop at random intervals. Feeling Derek tensing up beneath him, he pulled back, making sure Derek had a lot of comfort room to not finish too quickly. Pulling himself off, reluctantly, the saliva he left behind glistened in the low light, the slurping sound filling the room with it’s crassness, and only served to make Derek’s cock twitch in appreciation.

“I hope you aren’t insulted if I say I love watching you do that.”

“I hope you aren’t insulted if I say I love watching you watch me suck on your dick.”

Derek’s grin matched his own. Kissing each other deeply, Stiles groaned as he tasted a bit of himself in Derek’s mouth. Derek moaned at the taste of his sex on Stiles’ breath. The kisses slowly got deeper and Derek reached between them, slowly and teasingly removing the plug that Stiles had used to warm himself up with. It wasn’t as wide as Derek was, but it gave him a head start. Rolling Stiles onto his back, Derek reached up and underneath one of the pillows, pulling out a condom and lube. 

Watching as Stiles took the condom from his hand, Derek lubed up his fingers, and slowly started to work them into his boyfriend’s waiting hole. Watching with rapt attention as Stiles rolled the condom down, with the same anticipation he’d have waiting to open a Christmas present, Derek smiled as he felt Stiles clench around his fingers when he found his prostate.

“You keep doing that you won’t have to touch me to make me cum.”

Shivering, Stiles let off another rolling wave of heat. This one took Derek by surprise, and almost fell off the precipice into a wave of an orgasm.

“I need to get in you.”

“You NEED to get in me.”

They laughed as they spoke over each other and came to the same conclusion. Rolling onto his back, Derek guided Stiles to be on top. Maddeningly slowly, Stiles pressed Derek against his entrance, lowering himself inch by maddening inch until he bottomed out. Derek watched Stiles’ face, looking for the sign he was okay to start moving. Stiles, as if on cue, nodded his head, and groaned as Derek pulled part way out, and pushed back in. Slowly, they found a rhythm they could both work with.

Stiles leaned forward and Derek met him halfway so they could kiss, and also to adjust the angle. Stiles suddenly saw fireworks as Derek found the right spot once again, rolling his hips to maximize the pressure against it. Letting out a low groan, Stiles reached between them to start working his own member at the same speed as Derek’s thrusting. Derek batted his hand away, taking control of his pace and rhythm, watching Stiles sink into the moment, and throw his head back. 

Leaning back to brace himself against Derek’s thighs as Derek started to move in him with wanton abandon. Feeling Derek working him faster and faster, he was only moaning, unable to find the words to warn Derek he was going to finish. 

“Cum for me Stiles. I’m gonna cum right…now…”

As Derek screamed his way into his orgasm, Stiles let loose with his own. A final heat way flooded the room, leaving them both glowing with sweat. Stiles’ white semen dappled Derek’s dark chest hair, leaving a testament to what they had just done. Carefully removing himself from Stiles, Derek removed the condom, tied it off and threw it into the garbage. Pulled a pack of wet wipes from the top of the headboard, Derek handed one to Stiles to wipe down with, while he wiped himself clean. Throwing the used cloths into the garbage, he wordlessly pulled Stiles into an embrace, pulling the covers over them as the tiredness started to creep in. They smelled of sweat and sex and spent lube, but right now, Derek didn’t care. Neither did Stiles. 

That’s what washing machines were for.


	24. Aftwerwards

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a single full chapter after this (it'll be in the same vein as my Song Fics), and maybe an epilogue. Almost done everyone. Thank you for sticking it through.

Waking up the following morning, Derek lay on his back, a smile on his face while remembering the night before. It had been a first for him. He hadn’t had the greatest track record with relationships before now, so an evening like that wasn’t something he had ever enjoyed. Looking over to Stiles pillow, a small frown crossed his face at the empty pillow. That did not, however, last very long, as he arched his back and groaned out what he thought was a spontaneous orgasm. When the bedding didn’t suddenly become saturated, he pulled the blankets back to see Stiles finishing giving his cock a tongue bath. The obvious sound of Stiles swallowing, followed by his dorky half smile, he laid back with his head on Derek’s shoulder. Tilting Stiles’ face up a bit, Derek kissed him deeply before giving him a squeeze.

“I could get used to waking up like that.”

“Well that’s good. Because I can definitely think of worse ways to wake you up.”

Sighing, they looked at the alarm clock. School day. They both had to go. It was blessedly nearing the end of the school year, and they were only a few days away from prom. The last few months had been, in short, a bit of a wild ride. Exchanging a few more kisses, Derek grinned broadly and disappeared under the covers. They didn’t have to get ready for school just yet.

***

Their classes came and went as they usually did. Stiles finished his make up tests during his free first period. Some of the teachers opted to skip making him do the tests as his marks were high enough to not bother. Finstock was NOT among them. His assignment work had all been completed and turned in before he came back to school so there was no real reason for the tests. 

Gathering his books to leave Ms. Morrell’s class, he dropped his text book, right arm in a bit of a spasm. There wasn’t much damage done despite the bullet wound, but there was some very minor nerve issues that seemed to pop up if he’d over exerted himself. This morning’s activities with Derek probably didn’t help. Bending over to pick up the book, his hand brushed Derek’s and he blushed a little bit. Letting his boyfriend tuck his book into his bag, he resisted the urge to swoon right then and there.

“Stiles. Do you mind staying back for a moment?”

Stiles nodded to Derek that he’d be fine. Derek, not questioning it, gave him a quick kiss and went to catch up with Lydia and Allison to grab a table for lunch. Despite not being home last night, Melissa and Rafe had still managed to pull together lunch for their group of friends. Chicken empanadas. From scratch of course.

Turning to Ms. Morrell, he gave her a small smile.

“I hope my paper made sense. When I was writing it I was all over the map and I’m pretty sure the pain killers weren’t helping much.”

Shaking her head with a smile.

“No. Your paper was perfectly fine. In fact, it was well beyond what I had asked for on the subject matter. I would imaging though, having first hand experience being a Spiritual Dominant you have some first hand experience with the subject matter.”

Stiles shrugged, then winced.

“But I’m curious as to why you think a re-naming would be more appropriate, rather than staying with the traditional title. Many people like you…”

“…don’t have to face down their boyfriend’s ex-abuser who is hell bent on subjugating anyone who doesn’t see eye to eye with her and specifically targets someone to help remove her conscience to make it easier for her, only to have him turn it around and shove all the pain and misery you foisted on another person down your throat.”

There was no venom in his voice. If anything, it was a tiredness that he carried with him like a second skin. Sitting on one of the desks, he picked at his nails.

“There’s nothing Spiritual about that Ms. Morrell. I did it to her in self defence.”

She nodded her head.

“But I feel disgusted with myself. It wasn’t my Spirit that dominated hers. It was emotions. It was pure emotion that I used and fed off from my boyfriend and forced her to endure. I’m not Spiritual Dominant Marin. At best I’m Emotionally Dominant.”

Sliding off the table, he walked to the door trying to stifle what he was feeling so it didn’t bleed off to everyone around him.

“And at worst?”

Stiles stopped and looked over his shoulder.

“When someone says they are, at best, something. They have a worst case scenario.”

Stiles tapped on the door frame.

“A monster. At worst. A monster.”

Walking out of the classroom he didn’t look over his shoulder, knowing full well there was a concerned look on her face, and more than a little pity. Concern he could handle. Pity, he couldn’t stand. He’d dealt with that enough when his mother passed away. Schooling his thoughts and emotions so Derek wouldn’t pick them up, he made his way to the cafeteria, the long way, and by the time he arrived, he was all smiles and happiness. 

Letting Derek pull him onto his lap, he all but purred at the warmth of being enveloped in those arms. Leaning against Derek, he giggled an embarrassing giggle when Derek blew a raspberry on the back of his neck. 

“So we were just talking about prom and I’m thinking we’ll get a limo that can pick up all of us, and head down together. What do you guys think?”

Derek had addressed the table. Lydia and Allison were all in. Danny and Ethan were quick to jump on it as well. Jackson reluctantly agreed. Scott was a bit more hesitant because of the money aspect of things. Stiles was secretly a little annoyed because he wanted the limo just to himself and Derek for many many reasons. But he couldn’t resist how eager Derek was to join in the festivities, so he quickly voted yes.

“But wait. Prom is this weekend. Like. Two days from now. Pretty sure all the limos in Beacon Hills are rented out by now.”

Derek merely grinned and pulled out his phone. Opening a text message, Stiles saw who Derek was texting. 

“Uncle Peter?”

When Stiles had taken to calling Peter ‘Uncle’ Derek couldn’t quite figure out, but since the incident in the old apartment with Jennifer, he had been around a lot more lately, and managed to engrain himself with the McCall-Stilinski household. There was his need to be around family, which they respected, and the fact that they’d taken in Derek without a second thought had made them MVPs in Peter’s eyes. They stepped up when he couldn’t. 

“If anyone is going to have a car big enough it’s going to be him.”

“You mean you’re asking for one from his personal fleet?”

Derek absently nodded his head.

“Nothing but the best from that guy. And we won’t have to pay a rental fee.”

“Can we not have him send his fiancé as our driver…or at least not send him in THAT uniform”

Derek’s ears turned pink. Peter had sent his fiancé to pick up Stiles and him for dinner one night and sent him in a chauffeur uniform that would be more fitting in a fetish club than picking up two high school students.

Hastily, Derek added that to his message which was only acknowledged with a winking face emoji. While not overly reassured, he did get confirmation that there would be a car with “treats” waiting to pick them all up on Saturday at Stiles’ house. 

“You’re not a monster by the way.”

Stiles went very still and very pale at that.

“You…how did you…”

Derek looked up at his boyfriend, wrapping his arms around him. The look on his face was very matter of fact. Everyone at the table turned their focus on Stiles, looks of concern and understanding intermingling.

“We were on our way back because I felt a twinge from you. We…over heard the last part of your conversation. You aren’t a monster Stiles. You bring way too much goodness to peoples lives for you to be anything but a saint. Even if your lips were made for sin.”

Stiles chuckled an awkward chuckle. 

“I’m just…worried. With Jennifer still out there…god knows she is probably gunning for me. Which reminds me.”

Turning to Allison.

“Tell your Aunt I said hi. Let her know Derek’s fine. A few injuries. Nothing permanent though.”

Stiles took a bite of his apple and turned to a very confused, and not a little distressed Derek.

“I’ll explain tonight.”

He flexed his butt cheeks on Derek’s lap. Feeling a twitch in response, he smiled.

“I promise.”


	25. Thinkin' Out Loud

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Standard Disclaimer: I do not own the song. 
> 
> Title: Thinkin' Outloud  
> Artist: Ed Sheeran

By the time they’d gotten home, Stiles had run out of delaying tactics to avoid having The Talk with Derek about the fact that Kate had actually shown up quite some time back while he was being evaluated for his treatment plan. Melissa was milling around in the kitchen, putting together sandwiches for dinner because two doubles back to back were enough to override her ability to function, but it took little effort to put meat and cheese on a bun. 

Making their way upstairs, they sat on the bed, Derek a bundle of anxiety, Stiles a bundle of stress. Though if Derek had to pick who to be locked in a room with, Jennifer or Kate, he’d easily take Kate. She was a bitch but she never physically hurt him. Bit of an ego blow when she cheated on him, but considering he had a black velvet box holding a gold band with several tastefully sized diamonds mounted just waiting to go on Stiles’ hand, you could definitely argue he’d gotten over that.

“Talk to me Stiles. What’s with sending cryptic messages to my ex-girlfriend…right in front of me.”

Stiles toed his shoes off and adjusted his sock. Picking at a piece of lint that wasn’t there, he took a deep breath.

“While you were in physio, Kate showed up and we talked. I wouldn’t even call it a full conversation because it only lasted about 6 very long very emotionally draining minutes. I called her a heartless bitch. She didn’t argue. She told me you deserved me, but not in a bad way which was…odd. I called her a bitch. Again. And she didn’t argue.”

“And the cryptic message?”

At that, Stiles got to his feet. He felt like he was some kind of gang boss all of a sudden. Sending a message that he hoped was interpreted as, ‘She got away. Mess her up. Don’t kill her,’ but he wasn’t sure how it would be taken. Pacing the room until Derek carefully grabbed him by the waist. Pressing a toe curling kiss to his lips, Stiles felt his anxiety drop a fraction.

“Kate told me that…if Jennifer escaped, or if something in the law let her get away and we couldn’t find her…to get a message to her through Allison and she’d take care of it.”

“So the ‘nothing permanent and a few injuries’ was…what…placing an order?”

Stiles meekly nodded his head.

There was a bit of anger in Derek’s tone. Not too much. Derek for his part was a bit thrown over the entire situation. On the one hand, he deplored violence of any type. He knew that Stiles did as well. He felt it deep in his heart. Part of him was impressed and annoyed that Kate had been called and she stopped by. 

He’d have to update that calling list that was for sure. 

On the other hand though, Jennifer had regained consciousness, incapacitated a deputy, stolen their car and abandoned it presumably picking up her getaway vehicle and heading for the hills, and if she were as skilled as he thought she might be, would be almost impossible to catch unless they slipped up. 

Having a bounty hunter offer you that kind of favour was not something to be taken lightly. 

Pulling Stiles down onto his lap, he wrapped his arms protectively around Stiles’ waist, nuzzling his face into Stiles’ shirt. Squeezing him tightly, he merely sighed.

“Don’t make a habit of calling out the attack dogs. All I ask.”

Stiles nodded his head.

“Deal.”

***

“The rules are simple enough Jennifer.”

Kate lashed out with a vicious backhand, catching the other woman across the face.

“Don’t be a total bitch. Don’t be cruel. That’s it. That’s really all anyone has to do.”

Jennifer swung at Kate but missed, tripping over a tree root and landing in the mud.

“See. I’m a bitch from the word go. I’d argue with someone who DIDN’T think that. But what you did to Derek well…that’s just a big fucking no no babe. See _I_ dumped him because he was a bit boring in bed and I found the guy who just scratched all my itches the right way. You just treated him like trash and almost killed him.”

Jennifer looked up from the mud puddle she fell in.

“I was using him. For his money and…”

“To get at his little classmate. Blah blah blah you’ve said it already. But you got beat down you dumbass.”

Kate wound up and kicked her in the chest.

“See. You also made another little mistake. You know what that was?”

Grabbing Jennifer by the hair and yanking her to her feet.

“You hurt the kid. See. We don’t do that in polite society.”

“And I suppose you’re the be all and end all of polite society.”

“No. I’m a borderline nut job who knows better than most how important it is to blend in and lay low. And sweety. Just remember one tiny tiny detail while you’re sitting in jail.”

Jennifer’s eyebrows went up.

“It was the little classmate who sent me after you. He said ‘nothing permanent.’ But if you ever go near them again, I’ll make things last a bit longer.”

Sneering at Kate, Jennifer spat in her face.

“Why does it matter to you?”

“Oh you dumb whore…”

Kate leaned in and whispered in Jennifer’s ear.

“They’re my nieces friends. And if you hurt them, you upset her. She’s been upset more than enough in her life. So when she’s upset, she comes to me. And I love nothing more than making her smile…”

Jennifer felt the blood drain from her face at the all too sweet tone of Kate’s voice. Her concerns were quickly muted as she felt the blow land across the base of her skull and darkness took over.

***

Prom arrived at the end of a reasonably sedate week. Stiles’ physiotherapy was proceeding well, though his range of motion with his right arm was slow in returning. The muscle atrophy was reversing itself and he was getting his strength up. The more tired he was though, the more coordination issues he was having. By Friday he was tripping all over himself, but he was damned and determined to go to prom, and Derek offered to bridal carry him around if it meant taking his sweetheart to prom.

Peter had come through for them with the limo, but had a stipulation. Everyone had to be the McCall-Stilinski residence by 2pm dressed and ready to go for the limo to pick them up. Given that the festivities wouldn’t be kicking off for their actual prom until 6pm for the Grand March, and dinner was about an hour after that, they were a bit annoyed they’d have to be ready that much earlier. Still. Peter wasn’t charging them a rental fee and had promised that it would be worth it.

Gathered in the yard were Stiles and Derek, Allison and Scott, Lydia and Jackson, Danny and Ethan, as well as Erica and Boyd. Having exhausted each others families for taking photos of pretty well every combination you could think of, they’d opted to have a few non-alcoholic drinks, CLEAR beverages at Lydia’s insistence in case one of the boys dropped something on her dress. Most of the adults were also going as chaperones, Rafe and John also providing protection services in case Jennifer did something remarkably stupid and show up to ruin their nights.

Promptly at 2pm, around the corner came a multi-wheeled monstrosity. The love child of a limo, a hummer, a bus, and what looked like a dance club pulled up to the curb. “Hale of a Good Time” emblazoned on the side, and the distinct sound of bass thumping through the vehicle. What looked like a seamless side split open and a set of stairs came down, the inside looked like a private club with lush seating, a DJ and a bar, completed with bartending station. Peter descended the stairs, dressed to the nines, with his boyfriend’s arm linked through his.

“Ah wonderful. You’re all here and ready to go. Please join me for a Hale of a Good Time and do me allow me the honour of escorting this handsome bunch to your evening entertainments.”

Collectively, they gathered their jaws off the ground and let out excited whoops and hollers as they got inside. Derek found himself subjected to the collective gaze of his friends and by extension, his family.

“Wait…you’re THAT Hale?”

Lydia looked back at Derek and Peter with a new found interest. Jackson rolled his eyes at his girlfriend’s newfound enthusiasm at her acquaintance with Derek and the connection to Peter. Hale wasn’t exactly a common name, but there were a few ‘lesser’ relations in the area. None in Beacon County though.

“So. Is it true that your family offers funding to women looking to make a break into the Sciences?”

Peter, not wanting to see Derek’s fun evening derailed into talking shop swooped in and escorted Lydia to the tables at the back where the waiters were starting the appetizer service. 

The DJ dropped the music volume a bit to allow for the assorted teens and the few chaperones to be able to talk without having to scream. Non-alcoholic beverage services had also commenced. Looking around at the collective of people, Stiles looked up at Derek, pressing a kiss to his jaw.  
“I did good?”

“You did amazing, Beautiful.”

Snuggling together, Derek let a smile stretch across his face. Everyone was enjoying themselves, because of something he’d done. Tracing his thumb across Stiles’ jaw, it was all he could do to keep himself from dropping to his knee right here and proposing. But looking at their friends and escorts, Derek couldn’t help but feel a little smug, surrounded by everything Jennifer had told him he would never have without her.

***

Grand March had been wonderful, seeing everyone dressed in their finest of formal wear. Though if there were going to be a little biased, Derek and Stiles definitely thought their group of friends were among the best dressed.

Dinner was…dinner. Rubbery chicken and over cooked vegetables, which suddenly explained why Peter insisted on them eating their fill on the bus as they cruised through Beacon Hills and surrounding areas. They had definitely drawn a crowd, and through the tinted windows, more than a few jealous glares. It was small and petty, but there was something nice about actually being the envy of someone rather than envy other people the simplest of things.

The dining area was cleared, and the DJ was set up, starting them off with high energy number after high energy number. Stiles, it would turn out, was an enthusiastic, but somewhat terrible dancer. He certainly didn’t care as he bounced around the dance floor, looking more than a little winded, but just loving the crazy feel good vibes that were floating around out there. Derek was a bit more reserved, in truth he would have preferred to be left to sit on the sidelines, but their collective group wasn’t having any of that. He wasn’t that bad and kind of fell into his own rhythm, somewhat enjoying himself. 

The rest of their group fell all over the spectrum. Erica had the energy and presence to command the room at the twitch of her barely covered shoulder, though she avoided the strobe lights, much to Derek’s confusion. Lydia discreetly explained about her epilepsy, so an equally discreet Derek made his way to the DJ stand and slipped him a few bills. The strobe lights suffered and “unexpected malfunction” that would likely take a few days to fix. Erica and Boyd each mouthed a ‘thank you’ to Derek as they had witnessed what he did. Smiling sheepishly he merely shrugged his shoulders. Everyone deserved to have a great time, and worrying about a strobe light when he could make the problem go away wasn’t conducive to having fun.

After what seemed like forever, a slow song finally came up. Some of their group slipped off the dance floor, but Derek caught Stiles who was stumbling a little bit.

“Dance with me?”

“I’m two left feet right now. I’ll stomp all over your feet.”

“Please?” Derek gave him his best puppy dog look that Stiles was proving unable to resist. Letting Derek take some of his weight, he looked up with a smile once the song started playing, as though understanding.

“Ahh.”

Pressing a kiss to Stiles’ lips, he sang in Stiles ear as they swayed to the beat. His voice vibrated deep in his chest, leaving a distinctive purring feeling in Stiles’.

_When your legs don't work like they used to before_  
_And I can't sweep you off of your feet_  
_Will your mouth still remember the taste of my love?_  
_Will your eyes still smile from your cheeks?_

Pressing another kiss to Stiles’ lips, he deepened it, but still kept it appropriate. 

_And, darling, I will be loving you 'til we're 70_  
_And, baby, my heart could still fall as hard at 23_  
_And I'm thinking 'bout how people fall in love in mysterious ways_  
_Maybe just the touch of a hand_  
_Well, me—I fall in love with you every single day_  
_And I just wanna tell you I am_

Derek’s voice broke with emotion, and Stiles wrapped his arms tighter around Derek, picking it up without pause. 

_So, honey, now_  
_Take me into your loving arms_  
_Kiss me under the light of a thousand stars_  
_Place your head on my beating heart_  
_I'm thinking out loud_  
_Maybe we found love right where we are_

Nuzzling against each other, they simply swayed to the song, forgetting there was a world around them. There was a spot light that appeared to be growing on them, but they chalked it up to the romantic vibes. 

_When my hair's all but gone and my memory fades_  
_And the crowds don't remember my name_  
_When my hands don't play the strings the same way (mmm...)_  
_I know you will still love me the same_

Derek, not trusting his voice to sing, simply whispered along.

_'Cause, honey, your soul could never grow old, it's evergreen_  
_And, baby, your smile's forever in my mind and memory_  
_I'm thinking 'bout how people fall in love in mysterious ways_  
_Maybe it's all part of a plan_  
_Well, I'll just keep on making the same mistakes_  
_Hoping that you'll understand_

_That, baby, now_  
_Take me into your loving arms_  
_Kiss me under the light of a thousand stars_  
_Place your head on my beating heart_  
_Thinking out loud_  
_Maybe we found love right where we are (oh, oh)_

Dipping Stiles, he slowly brought him back up, a smile broader than any he’d felt since his family had died. Kissing him deeply, he held his partner tight.

_So, baby, now_  
_Take me into your loving arms_  
_Kiss me under the light of a thousand stars_  
_Oh, darling, place your head on my beating heart_  
_I'm thinking out loud_  
_But maybe we found love right where we are_  
_Oh, baby, we found love right where we are_  
_And we found love right where we are_

As the song died out, Derek reached into his pocket and got to one knee, feeling brave surrounded by everyone who was probably just as deliriously happy as he was. Looking up at the way the lights sparkled in Stiles eyes, he said in a voice barely loud enough to carry.  
“Marry me?”

Stiles looked into Derek’s eyes, feeling a smile split his face in two, he nodded his head, not even looking at the ring.

“Yes. Of course!”

Derek stood up, picking Stiles up in a tight embrace, swinging him around in a circle. Setting him down, Derek placed the ring on Stiles finger, and realized after all was said and done that they were the only two people in the middle of the dance floor. There was indeed a spot light on them, and in the distance he could barely make out Peter slipping the DJ a couple folded bills. Feeling himself go a little red in the face, all at once the student body broke into a massive round of applause.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thinking probably one more chapter, likely with a little smut (they just got engaged. There has to be SOME celebration) and then an epilogue.


	26. Second Chance

The evening continued one without any other major announcements from any other members of the student body, though Greenberg did get busted with his flask, and promptly threw up on Coach’s shoes, much to the amazement of everyone around. There was a healthy amount of disgust. But mostly amusement. As the dance wound down, and the couples started to disperse, Peter had the driver pull around the party bus and picked up everyone. Exhausted from the good times they had, the onboard DJ kept the music nice and low, and the waiters brought around offerings of brandy or hot chocolate for who ever wanted them. 

Heads down and in a whisper, Stiles notice his parents were hovered around Rafe’s phone. Nodding their heads, they made their way over to where Stiles was laying across Derek’s lap, with Derek admiring the ring he had bought Stiles, and how it was sitting just perfectly on his hand.

“Don’t want to interrupt but, thought you’d like to know. Parrish just messaged us. Jennifer’s been dropped off looking more than a little worse for wear. She’s offered to make a full confession. Not sure what got in to her but-“

“-at least we don’t have to be looking over our shoulders any more. Thanks Dad.”

Looking up at Derek who was visibly relieved.

“Definitely welcome news tonight.”

The rest of the ride was filled with comfortable silence and punctuated with well wishing for the remainder of the night as everyone was slowly dropped off. After pulling up to Stiles’ house, his parents got up from their seat, but Derek tightened his grip and just shook his head ‘no’ that they weren’t getting out here. Melissa, Rafe and John didn’t look at all perplexed about it, if anything they were expecting it. 

Looking up at Derek with a questioning look, Derek just gave him a smile, and pulled him closer. Relaxing into him, Stiles started to drift to sleep a little bit, and Derek adjusted himself to be able to spoon a bit, and gave himself the permission to drift off, even though as a rule he hated sleeping in a moving vehicle. Hold over from the time he fell asleep in their parents care and Cora threw up on the back of his head. He was reasonably certain that would not be the issue here. 

Driving for what felt like hours, they woke up, pulling in to the Four Seasons Beacon County. Peter escorted them off the bus, acting like their personal assistant as he took care of checking them in and bringing them the suitcase that Stiles hadn’t realized had been secreted out of his bedroom. Escorting them up to the hotel room, Peter did not go inside, instead handing the card key and suitcase to Derek, and pulling Stiles into a hug.

“I’m happy to welcome you to our family. Small though it is. I can say, without the shadow of a doubt, Talia, Derek’s mother, would absolutely love you.”

Stiles returned the hug somewhat awkwardly, but figured out how after a few moments. Pulling back, Derek gave his uncle a hug, chuckling slightly at something he whispered and nodding his head.

To Stiles questioning look, Derek merely shrugged.

“He said that if we split up, he’s keeping you in the divorce.

Snickering and shaking his head. “You’re stuck with me Der. Not going anywhere.”

Stiles grabbed the key card and opened the door to the penthouse suite. Walking in and fumbling for the light switch, he felt his jaw drop as he took in the panoramic view the wrap around window afforded them.  
“Oh. My. God.”  
“You like?”

“Oh. My. GOD.”

“That’s a yes?”

“Oh. My. GOD!“

Derek laughed and nodded. This was definitely a win. Opening the suitcase, he unpacked into the closets and drawers. Something about living out of the suitcase he just didn’t like the thought of. After the house burned down, the thought of being transitory struck a chord in him, and he avoided it whenever he could. Even if it was just as simple as unpacking their suitcase for a weekend stay. 

Pulling his suit off piece by piece, he hung it up carefully. Unlike a lot of people at the dance, he owned his suit, and had also bought Stiles’. He wasn’t just about to stuff it in the back of the closet. Feeling Stiles’ eyes on him as he removed each piece with great care. Biting his bottom lip as he put on a bit of a strip tease for his boyfriend, he pushed Stiles onto the bed, straddling his hips, wriggling a little bit. Stiles thrusted up just a little bit. Derek rolled his hips again, feeling a smile cross his lips. Leaning forward, he savagely kissed Stiles, biting at his bottom lip. A bit of a perplexed look crossed Stiles’ face but there wasn’t any argument at the aggression and he certainly wasn’t complaining about what Derek was doing with his hips.

“Der. What’re you thinking.”

Derek smile was a little feral.

“I’m thinking that I need to have you in me. Not want. Need. I need to pin you down to the mattress while you fuck me brainless. I need you to love me and let me claim you and have you just pound into me and then let me fuck you. And then after we wake up, make sweet tender love to each other but tonight I need you in me.”

Stiles reached out with his sense of Derek looking for any sign this was a manic request from Derek to chase off the ghosts in his head. What he felt was clarity. Pure intention. And of course the head rush of being two horny teenagers. Smiling broadly, Stiles nodded eagerly. Feeling Derek pin his arms above his head even tighter, he shivered in anticipation as Derek gingerly undid the buttons on his shirt somehow being careful to not actually make contact with his skin. The “So close but not close enough” torment drew a groan from Stiles that was quickly muffled by another kiss. Making quick work of the rest of their clothes, Derek made the mental note to get everything dry cleaned, forgetting that hangers were a thing at the first glimpse of Stiles’ pale chest. 

Pushing Stiles back on the bed, he leaned down and gave Stiles length a nice long lick. While ordinarily he enjoyed going down on Stiles, he had a mission in his mind and it didn’t end with Stiles shooting down his throat. Not this time anyway. Laying down beside Stiles, he traced his hand lazily along Stiles’ shaft, hips bucking as Stiles found his. 

“What’s your safe word Stiles.”

“Potato. What’s yours?”

“Nachos.”

It was a ritual they went through when they were trying something that had the risk of triggering Derek’s trauma. Pressing a kiss to Stiles lips they nodded. He’d been stretching himself out more and more lately in secret, with the intention of “surprising” Stiles with this. Straddling Stiles again, he teased himself against Stiles sensitive head. Reaching into the bag beside the bed, he pulled out the lube and the condoms.

“I’m giving you the option. I’m good with whatever you choose Stiles. But if you want just the lube, I wouldn’t say no to feeling you fill me completely. If you want the condoms though, I’m also good with that.”

They’d both been in and out of the hospital so frequently with blood work, they were very sure of each other’s status.

“Only if you can fill me too.”

Derek nodded and pressed a bone melting kiss to his fiancé’s mouth. Pouring a generous amount on his hand, he pressed his fingers deep inside himself, hissing slightly in Stiles ear while he pinned his arms above his head once again. 

“I dreamed about you moving inside me Stiles. When you were downstairs sparring, I’d be in our bed, fucking myself against my hand wanting it to be you.”

Stiles buried his face in Derek’s neck.

“Did you ever dream about being in me?”

“Oh yeah. I’d fantasize about pinning you against your locker and just sinking myself in you at school. Or bending you over and slowly licking you out.”

Derek moaned at the thought adding another finger. Hitting things just right, he arched his back letting out a loud moan. Pulling his hand out, he spread the remaining lube on his hand against Stiles length, guiding it in to his partially stretched hole. Hissing slightly as Stiles pressed up, Derek took a deep breath, relaxing into the sensation. Hissing again it quickly shifted to a hungry growl. Looking down at Stiles, he nodded his head for Stiles to move. Feeling Stiles press further up, he pushing himself down to meet Stiles thrust. Holding Stiles arms firmly above his head, he leaned forward, giving Stiles some room to push back. Feeling Stiles hit his prostate, he moaned loudly, feeling his breath catch in his throat. At this rate, he wasn’t going to last long and they hadn’t even touched him.

“How’s that feel Stiles?”

He got a groan in response.

“Feel like what you dreamed about.”

“God yes.”

“You’re bigger than I dreamed Stiles. Harder.”

Pinning him more fully into the mattress.

“Fuck me harder Stiles. Cum in me.”

Biting down on Stiles earlobe, not enough to draw blood but sharp enough to be noticed, he groaned in joy as Stiles was pounding him hard enough that he was seeing little sparks in the edges of his vision. Stiles’ steady breathing was starting to become ragged. Experience said he was close. Really close. 

“Cum in me Stiles. I need you to cum in me.”

Looking down as Stiles arched back, driving one final thrust deep inside. Whether it was his imagination or not, Derek imagined that he felt Stiles shooting deep within him. Holding back as much as hard as he could, he knew he wasn’t far behind. Carefully pulling himself off Stiles’ softening member, he looked at Stiles as he released his hands, Stiles nodded his head.

“Need you Derek. I need you.”

Taking no further prompting, and a hearty application of lube, Derek buried himself deeply in Stiles, already feeling the tingle of his impending orgasm building. Stiles thrusted against him, and Derek felt their awarenesses wrapping around each other. After a few moments of grinding together, Derek felt himself pass the point of no return, filling Stiles to the brim with his own seed. Almost collapsing on top of the slender man, Derek pulled himself out, feeling utterly weightless. 

Panting, staring at the ceiling, Stiles retrieved a few towels to put in the bed, knowing full well what was likely going to happen over night. 

Wrapping themselves up in the blanket, they lazily kissed each other until they fell asleep, holding tightly to each other, secure in the feeling that sometimes in life, you truly deserved your second chance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally this was going to have an epilogue but I just can't seem to write it, so instead this has become the final chapter.
> 
> I will continue with this AU in due time, and may even come back to flesh this story out a bit more, but I have a few other project that need to be completed as well. I hope you enjoyed it, and thank you SO much for seeing this through to the end with me.

**Author's Note:**

> In all seriousness, before you read further, this is not going to be a pretty story to read, and I'm already feeling some nerves about writing it. If this spoils some of what you're going to read, I'm okay with that...but if your relationship looks at all like Derek and Lori's relationship...run. Don't walk. And if you need help, reach out and ask. You're worth more than that.
> 
> I'm nervous about writing this. I will try to handle certain things as delicately as possible.


End file.
